Ring Around the Rosie
by Moonofwinds
Summary: Cliffjumper wants to make it up to Mirage for acting like an aft. He notices that Mirage is not fairing so well after his run in with the Insecticons. Sequel to London Bridge, Prequel to Pulling Teeth and Crack in the Pavement. M/C Slash
1. Chapter 1

Ring Around the Rosie

Chapter 1

Sequel to to London Bridge. Let the fun begin.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Cliffjumper wants to make it up to Mirage for acting like an aft. He notices that Mirage is not fairing so well after his run in with the Insecticons.

Warning: M/M robot slashy goodness.

Pairings: Mirage/ Cliffjumper

Mirage lay on his berth, optics open even though he should have been deep in recharge. He couldn't physically shutter his optics, and he couldn't quite his mind. The lights of his room were still on; Mirage found himself afraid to turn off the lights. Darkness held new terrors for him. It brought him back into the small corner of his processor where Bombshell had kept Mirage trapped in the dark unable to move his body or even feel it. It was embarrassing to feel so terrified, like a small sparkling, but Mirage found himself unable to suppress the fear. Even with the lights on, Mirage couldn't shutter his optics. With them closed, he would be in the dark and his memories would begin replaying themselves in a continual loop. Mirage tried not to shake. His intakes took one quick breath after another, and his engine revved while his spark pulsed violently within its chamber. Angry with himself, and his own childishness, Mirage rolled onto his side, shuttered his optics tightly and ordered the lights off. He hugged his limbs close to his body and tried to fight the urge to turn back on the lights.

After two days, Cliffjumper knew something was wrong. The first day after Mirage had been released from the medbay, Cliffjumper had spied on him and Hound and seen how tired Mirage looked. He'd put it off as Mirage needing more time to recover from his ordeal. By the second day, today, Cliffjumper realized there was altogether something more going on with Mirage than just tiredness. For starters, Hound seemed anxious when he looked at Mirage. Of course neither Hound nor Mirage knew Cliffjumper was spying on them. When Cliffjumper had seen the expression on Hound's face he'd tried to sneak closer. His red paint didn't lent itself to camouflaging with the forest but the underbrush was thick and Hound seemed entirely too focused on Mirage to notice him. Mirage didn't seem focused on anything. Cliffjumper heard him answering Hound, speaking about the forest, about the Ark. Mirage's tone seemed normal enough, but Cliffjumper wasn't about to trust that. He inched through the bushes and tried to get a better look at Mirage.

He was smiling in response to something Hound had said but Cliffjumper could see what must have had Hound worried. Mirage's smile didn't reach his optics. Cliffjumper stayed very still and watched Mirage's optics. Whatever expression Mirage was making, his optics remained the same. They looked strained. Maybe Mirage just needed more time to recover; Cliffjumper tried to avoid becoming too alarmed.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back on the duty roster," Hound asked, his voice carrying over to Cliffjumper's audios.

"Of course," Mirage replied, he seemed to be trying to look at ease, at least from Cliffjumper's angle, but it wasn't working. "I'm not damaged, Hound."

"But you don't look good," Hound replied. "I'm worried about you."

"Thank you for that," Mirage replied tersely. "I'm quite alright; there is nothing for you to concern yourself over."

"I didn't mean it like that," Hound said. "You just look tired."

"I can assure you I am fine," Mirage said, irritation made his tone sharp. "Let's return to the Ark."

Cliffjumper moved back through the bushes. Mirage never snapped at Hound, never. When the three of them had lived in the same house on Cybertron, Cliffjumper had never heard Mirage even raise his voice at his lifelong friend. The tone Mirage was using now was cutting. Whatever Mirage thought, he was not fine and Cliffjumper would be damned if he was going to sit around and pretend he hadn't just seen this argument.

He raced as fast as his wheels would take him and returned to the Ark. He knew he'd beat Mirage and Hound because Hound would certainly be trying to make up with Mirage. Cliffjumper went straight to the medbay, looking for Ratchet; he raced in at such speed that Ratchet seemed to think there was some kind of disaster brewing.

"What's wrong?" Ratchet asked. "Who's damaged?"

"No one, I think," Cliffjumper said. "You can't clear Mirage for duty."

"Pardon?" Ratchet asked and narrowed his optics at Cliffjumper.

"He's not okay," Cliffjumper said, actually oblivious to Ratchet's irritation with him. "He's pretending to be okay, but somethings wrong."

"He went through a bit of an ordeal," Ratchet replied.

"Because of me, I know," Cliffjumper said quickly. "You fixed him, I know, I know. But something is still wrong with him. I can see it. Hound sees it too but Mirage isn't talking to him about it and I don't want him to get hurt again, all because he's not okay because of that Insecticon, because of me."

"How do you know he and Hound are having issues?" Ratchet asked. His patience had returned. The prospect of a patient in need always brought the professional out in him.

"I've been watching them," Cliffjumper said. "Just to make sure Mirage was really okay."

"Cliffjumper," Ratchet sighed and rubbed his optics. "Okay, what are you seeing that makes you think Mirage is unwell."

"He looks tired," Cliffjumper said. "Really tired and there's something wrong with how he looks. His optics look different. Dull."

"Mirage will be here later today to have a final exam before being cleared for duty," Ratchet said. "If I see something wrong, I'll hold off on clearing him for work. No promises."

"Thanks Ratch," Cliffjumper said.

"You could consider talking to him," Ratchet said.

"After how I've treated him, I don't think Mirage wants anything to do with me," Cliffjumper replied.

"I'm not going to pretend you weren't an aft," Ratchet said. "But Mirage said he forgave you when you apologized back when he first woke up."

"Not much of an apology," Cliffjumper mumbled. "And don't you think he could have just accepted it to be polite?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it," Ratchet replied. "I think Mirage was genuinely happy that you came around."

"Hmm," Cliffjumper hummed. "I'll think about it."

Something was indeed wrong with Mirage. Ratchet looked at his scans and noted the low energy levels. His fuel cells were full, so Mirage was consuming his rations, but from the looks of things, he may not have been recharging, not properly at least. The levels read at 65%, and Mirage looked like he needed a long recharge. He'd put on an up beat mask before he'd entered the medbay but Ratchet could see right through the guise. Mirage's optics were dull and he looked as if he were under great strain.

"I don't like the look of you energy levels," Ratchet said. "I'm not clearing you for duty until these levels come up. You need a few long recharges. Are you having memory fluxes?"

"No," Mirage replied. He was being mostly honest. While he had had a couple of minor memory fluxes it was Mirage's conscious processor that was making him feel harried.

"Then why do you look like shit?" Ratchet asked humourlessly.

"I," Mirage tried to quiet the hiss of intakes and slow down the pulsing of his spark. He felt cornered, trapped. "Ratchet..."

"No one looks like shit without a reason," Ratchet informed him. "So if it isn't fluxes, what is it?"

"It's just," Mirage tried not to stammer. "I've just been through an ordeal and am not quite myself. I think that's understandable."

"True enough," Ratchet replied grim faced. "Until you're feeling more like yourself you are on medical leave."

"If you insist," Mirage replied, his mouth was set in a thin line and his voice was a perfect mimic to the forced politeness Ratchet remembered from his Towers patients back in Helix when he'd still worked mostly out of the Academy. Ratchet hated the tone. It meant deception but he wasn't going to get anywhere with Mirage by locking him in the medbay. With any luck Hound would get to the bottom of whatever was eating at Mirage.

Mirage slid off the berth and walked away with such a stiff posture that Ratchet was certain he was barely containing his anger. Hound was waiting just outside the medbay doors, he was about to wish he hadn't been.

"What did you say to Ratchet?" Mirage asked, he was fuming. His optics weren't dim but rather burning with anger.

"What?" Hound said, surprised by both the question and Mirage's anger. "I didn't say anything."

"Just stay out of it Hound," Mirage ordered. "I don't need you meddling in my life."

"'Raj!" Hound called to him, panicked as Mirage stormed off.

"Leave me alone, Hound," Mirage shouted without look back. Hound stared after him, anguished. The medbay doors opened behind him and Ratchet looked on as Mirage disappeared down the hall. A deep frown scoured lines over Ratchet's faceplates.

"'Raj," Hound mumbled. Ratchet put a servo on his shoulder.

"He has to sort himself out," Ratchet said. "The Insecticon attack must have effected him more than we realized."

"I'm sorry Hound," Cliffjumper said from behind them.

"Cliffjumper?" Hound asked; he turned around to face the minibot. Cliffjumper looked stricken with guilt, and he hung his head.

"I spoke to Ratchet about Mirage," he confessed. "I thought he was in trouble and I asked Ratchet to keep him off the duty roster."

"Why?" Hound asked. While Mirage definitely seemed to need more time off, he didn't understand why Cliffjumper cared. Unless, of course Cliffjumper had finally come around.

"I'm sorry," Cliffjumper apologized again. "It's all my fault. I was an aft and accused him of being a traitor and he got himself hurt trying to prove himself. I was wrong. I should've known better. Mirage saved me and it's like I just forgot all about it. I can't make it up to him but I didn't want him to get hurt anymore. And now he's blaming you, and I'm sorry and it's all my fault."

"Oh, Cliffjumper," Hound said. That was unexpected, to say the least. "It's okay. I'm glad you talked to Ratchet. You know you can make it up to Mirage. I know he considers you a friend, albeit a challenging one. Maybe you can get him to talk to you seeing as I'm now a persona non grata."

"I don't think he's going to want to talk to me," Cliffjumper replied.

"I don't know about that," Hound said. "Could you at least try?"

"Sure," Cliffjumper replied. "I just need to find him first."

The first place Cliffjumper went in search of Mirage was his berth room. When Mirage didn't answer, Cliffjumper overrode the lock with the code Hound had taught him back on Cybertron. Mirage wasn't in the room. If Cliffjumper hadn't known that this was Mirage's room, he would have thought it vacant. There was nothing of personal value in the room. No pictures, no trinkets, the room contained Mirage's berth and a desk. He didn't even have a TV. A few data pads sat in a neat pile on the desk and a few more sat just as neatly on a small table by his berth. Hundreds of books could be loaded onto one pad. Either the only things Mirage did in his room was read and recharge, or he brought his work home with him. The room made Cliffjumper's spark ache. It hadn't changed at all since he'd last been in it. Mirage had nothing of his former life, no mementos of his youth. Then again, how could he? He'd never had a chance to go home and take back a picture or a toy. Hadn't Hound ever given him anything since they crashed onto Earth? Or did he give Mirage the pads? Was it possible that Mirage had no good memories here?

Cliffjumper couldn't stay in the impersonal room any longer; he needed to find Mirage now. But he promised that he would give Mirage something to make the room his own. Mirage wasn't in the common room either. Cliffjumper thought about asking if anyone had seen him but thought better of it. Brawn and Huffer were already bemoaning Mirage's extended leave.

"Probably hamming it up so he gets a vacation while we do all the work," Huffer complained.

"Getting made to look like a hero," Brawn added. "Can't believe anyone is buying it."

"Mirage had an Insecticon burrow in his processor," Cliffjumper said, boiling with anger at his two friends. "I think he could use a break."

"Oh that's just a cover for what he was really doing," Brawn said. "You don't actually believe that Towers mech, do you?"

"I saw the thing come out of his helm!" Cliffjumper snapped. The room quieted as other Autobots began listening in on the argument. "He didn't do that to himself."

"Course he did," Huffer said. "What better way to trick Prime into letting him back here."

"He didn't lie," Cliffjumper shouted. He couldn't believe he was having this argument but the horrible realization that this was what Mirage dealt with every day was just too much to bare. "No wonder he never comes to the common room. No wonder he put himself in danger like that. He was trying to prove himself to everyone and no one cares. No one cares if he's hurt. No one gives a Pit."

"What're you a Towers lover now?" Huffer asked snidely.

"Slag off," Cliffjumper snapped. "You're worse than Decepticons."

"Why you," Brawn stood up, spewing expletives and ready to give Cliffjumper the fight the red minibot only now realized he wanted.

"Enough," Prowl ordered from behind Cliffjumper. "There will be no fighting in the common room, or anywhere else in the Ark proper. If you want to bash each other's faceplates ask Ironhide to give you a training exercise."

"Sorry Prowl," Cliffjumper apologized. "I'm out of here."

Cliffjumper had known Brawn and Huffer said these sort of things. Them and Powerglide and Gears were always running their mouths about something, and more often than not, about Mirage. He'd always sat back with Bumblebee or Windcharger and tried to ignore their diatribe. Mirage must have known it too, from the moment he had stepped on the Ark, Cliffjumper had sat with those 'Bots while Mirage had hung around with Hound, acting like he didn't hear anything. How could he not have?

And at some point Cliffjumper had started to believe the garbage those other minibots were always spouting while forgetting that Mirage had been a good friend to him. Cliffjumper felt like such an aft. He needed to find Mirage and to tell him how sorry he was for how he'd been acting since after Helix. But where would Mirage be? Rather than scour the entire Ark, Cliffjumper went to the security room. There were cameras all over the Ark, wherever Mirage was, Red Alert and Inferno would know.

"Mirage?" Red Alert asked when Cliffjumper arrived at the security room. "He's not on any of my monitors."

"I saw him heading towards the damaged sectors," Inferno said. "A while ago, I thought he was looking for something, or someone."

"Out of view of my cameras," Red Alert commented with more than his normal anxiety in his voice. "He'd better not be up to something."

"Easy Red," Inferno soothed.

"He's having a rough time," Cliffjumper said, jumping to Mirage's defence. "He must have gone there to be left alone. Don't worry, I'll get him to come out."

"Don't trigger a collapse," Inferno warned.

"I won't," Cliffjumper replied, and set off for the damaged sectors deep inside the Ark.

Cliffjumper stepped through the doorway that led to the collapsed hallway that marked the beginning of the damaged sectors. Only a few lights in the hall were still operational. Sticking close to the wall, Cliffjumper looked around the the largely sealed off hall. The light wasn't so dim as to allow any mech to hide in the shadows, especially not a white and blue mech like Mirage. But he couldn't see Mirage either.

"You're using your generator, aren't you?" Cliffjumper asked the seemingly empty room. "You can see me, and I can't see you, right?"

He knelt down and felt along the wall, hoping to feel his way to Mirage. Only a metre or two from the doorway, Cliffjumper found Mirage. At least he was pretty certain it was Mirage. Cliffjumper felt along the air like a mime but he was actually feeling for Mirage's chassis, his legs, just to confirm that his processor wasn't playing tricks. His servo found the edge of Mirage's chassis; he felt along the invisible chassis and felt the pulse of Mirage's spark. Comfortably certain that this could be no other mech, Cliffjumper stopped feeling around Mirage and sat down next to him, leg to leg.

"Say something," Cliffjumper said. "If you aren't going to turn off that slagging generator, at least say something."

"What Cliffjumper?" Mirage said. His voice sounded strained, and sad.

"Something," Cliffjumper replied. "I'm sorry Mirage. I... Hound didn't talk to Ratchet about you. I did."

"Why?" Mirage asked, appearing immediately next to Cliffjumper. He was leaning back against the wall, one leg bent in front of him, the other stretched out. His servos were both on his bent knee. "You don't really trust me, do you?"

"What? No," Cliffjumper exclaimed. "No I trust you. It has nothing to do with that! I was worried. You aren't yourself and I don't want you getting slagged because you went out on a patrol or something when you weren't ready."

"I just tore into my best friend because you were worried about me?" Mirage asked, incredulous.

"And because you aren't yourself," Cliffjumper argued. "If you were yourself you wouldn't have yelled at Hound for anything. Talk to me Mirage. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Mirage said. "It's not like I was damaged or anything.

"I'm concerned I've underestimated Mirage's injuries," Ratchet said to Optimus after he called the Autobot leader into his medbay.

"How so?" Optimus asked. "I know you haven't cleared him for duty, can you tell me why?"

"I can only guess," Ratchet replied. "He didn't admit to anything but what the Insecticons did to him may not be so cut and dry. Mirage is standoffish, not recharging, and not admitting to having fluxes. But I can almost guarantee that he's having some or at least something is stopping him from resting. I believed him when he said he was basically unaware when the Insecticon was controlling his body. I'm beginning to doubt that. More went on, I don't know what. Maybe nothing else did happen, but it doesn't necessarily mean anything. Mirage is displaying textbook symptom of a traumatized mech."

"What can we do to help him?" Optimus asked.

"He needs to open up about it and talk to someone," Ratchet said. "He's closed himself off from Hound. And I can't get anywhere with him. Cliffjumper is trying to track him down to have a talk."

"Cliffjumper?" Optimus asked, surprised. "Really? He's come around?"

"And then some," Ratchet said. "He's feeling awfully guilty for how he treated Mirage and he wants to make up for it, if Mirage will let him. If he doesn't open up to Cliffjumper I'm going to have to force a psych eval on him and that might makes things worse."

"Keep me posted," Optimus said.

"Will do," Ratchet replied.

"How can you say that?" Cliffjumper asked he looked up at Mirage, and tried to read his optics. "That thing was buried in your processor. How is that not damaging?"

"There isn't a scratch on me," Mirage said in too soft a voice.

"Doesn't mean you weren't damaged," Cliffjumper replied. He reached up a servo and touched it to Mirage's helm. "You said you didn't feel anything when it was in there. Is that really true?"

"It is," Mirage said in that same too quite voice. "I couldn't feel my body. I couldn't feel anything."

"You were awake," Cliffjumper said with horrified awe. "He trapped you in your processor, and kept you awake?"

"It was dark," Mirage explained. "I couldn't see anything. Not until he started playing back my memories. I don't know if he wanted me to see what he was doing or if he was just digging around in my memory banks and I just happened to see them."

"He was in your memories," Cliffjumper couldn't hide the horror in his voice. "Mirage."

"He knows more about me than anyone," Mirage continued. "He just took it all straight from my processor."

"That doesn't mean he knows you," Cliffjumper argued he had both his servos on Mirage's shoulder now. He knelt next Mirage in order to get a better look at his profile.

"Yes it does," Mirage replied. "He knows how I feel, how I felt about... mechs and I think he wanted me to see because he replayed the same memories for me over and over. I couldn't hear anything but I felt like he was laughing at me."

"He's a dirty 'Con," Cliffjumper said. "He wanted to hurt you. And he did. You're damaged, Mirage. In your spark, in your processor. He might as well have 'faced you because what he did is as much rape as anything else."

Mirage hid his face in his servos. Cliffjumper knelt up and wrapped his arms around Mirage's shoulders and pressed his helm into the side of Mirage's neck. He heard Mirage's intakes hitch and he felt him shake; Cliffjumper didn't make a sound.

"Whenever I offline my optics I see it again," Mirage said there were tears in his optics but they didn't spill. "The memories play back endlessly. I'm scared of the dark because I feel like I'm back there in my processor."

"I don't blame you," Cliffjumper said. "You aren't weak, Mirage. If that's what you're thinking. No mech could come out of that without feeling shaky."

"You think so?" Mirage said. "Because I feel pathetic."

"You aren't!" Cliffjumper insisted. Mirage shuttered his optics, trying to stop the tears. His body shuddered as his memories began to replay.

"Optics open," Cliffjumper ordered, he held Mirage's faceplates and turned Mirage's helm to face him. Mirage onlined his optics and look back at Cliffjumper with such distress. "Something is definitely wrong. We're going back to Ratchet."

Mirage didn't fight him, and didn't argue. Cliffjumper led him, by the servo, out of the damaged sectors. They passed Percepter in the hall. The other mech stepped closer as if to ask what might have been wrong; Cliffjumper's furious scowl scared him off. From talking with Cliffjumper, Mirage was too raw to mask his distress. No one was going to bother Mirage while Cliffjumper was with him, not if Cliffjumper could help it. Ratchet was alone in the medbay when Cliffjumper led Mirage in. The medic leapt into action, pulling Mirage away from Cliffjumper and manhandled him over to a berth. Though he normally gave Ratchet a lot of space when he was working, Cliffjumper stood on the opposite side of the berth and held Mirage's arm with his servos. Cliffjumper relayed what Mirage had told. Mirage was trembling too hard to speak.

"I know you don't want to, but I need you to offline your optics while I run the diagnostics," Ratchet said. Mirage nodded and did as he was told. His whole body tensed and memories played out inside his processor. He reached for and clutched one of Cliffjumper's servos.

"Pit scum licking slagger," Ratchet swore. "Okay Mirage, I see what's wrong. Just one more minute and I'll erase the hack he left in your processor."

The memories stopped cycling in his processor and Mirage onlined his optics. His intakes hissed and his spark pulsed just a little slower. Both Ratchet and Cliffjumper looked down at him. Mirage managed a weary smile.

"He hacked your memory banks," Ratchet said. He wanted very badly to get his servos on the Insecticon so he could take him apart. "I didn't notice it before because it only showed up when you were online but you had your optics offline. I'm afraid I ran my scans when you were offline."

"That's okay, Ratchet," Mirage replied. "I'm glad you stopped it."

"Waking fluxes happen," Ratchet said. "But not like that. Next time, though I hope there isn't one, I need you to tell me when you're suffering like that."

"I thought I was being weak," Mirage explained. "Overly sensitive."

"Don't be an idiot," Ratchet scolded. "I'm sure that kind of thinking came from your slagging creator."

"Yes," Mirage admitted.

"Figures," Ratchet sighed. "You're recharging here, now."

"Okay," Mirage felt his optics dimming and the shutters closing. "Thank you, Cliffjumper."

Mirage was in recharge seconds later. Ratchet vented angrily and gave the berth's read outs a once over, before he turned to look at Cliffjumper.

"I slipped him something that'll help him recharge," Ratchet explained. "I don't know what you did, but you did good, Cliffjumper."

"I guess I just knew what to say," Cliffjumper replied. "I'd love to find the slagger and take his head off."

"My sentiments exactly," Ratchet agreed. "Stay as long as you want; I know you're worried about him."

End Chapter 1

Heading to Bot Con. This fic will be updated once a week after I get back on the 10th.


	2. Chapter 2

Ring Around the Rosie

Chapter 2

This was supposed to be a one shot. How didn't that happen?

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Cliffjumper wants to make it up to Mirage for acting like an aft. He notices that Mirage is not fairing so well after his run in with the Insecticons.

Warning: M/M robot slashy goodness.

Pairings: Mirage/ Cliffjumper

"The hack would have driven him mad," Ratchet said while he and Optimus sat in the latter's office. "Or into a self-destructive spiral that would have likely led to his suicide. Bombshell set it up so it would only appear on scans when active. I could have missed it entirely if Cliffjumper hadn't gotten him back to the medbay. He instinctively knew something was medically wrong. Kid's got a good head."

"It's seems we all underestimate the vulnerability of our processors," Optimus replied.

"Bodies can be repaired far more easily than processors," Ratchet added. "Mirage is recovering rather quickly now that his memories aren't cycling in front of his processors every time he shutters his optics. That doesn't mean that he doesn't have a little ways to go. The experience itself was traumatic and I don't entirely trust him to actually say if he's having a hard time."

"You said Cliffjumper has latched on to him?" Optimus asked.

"Yes, I'm releasing Mirage when I return to my medbay," Ratchet said. "Cliffjumper has been with him since he brought Mirage in."

"Well then let's trust Cliffjumper to know if Mirage flounders again," Optimus suggested.

"I need to apologize to Hound," Mirage said. He was sitting on the medical berth Ratchet had deposited him on the previous evening. Cliffjumper was sitting on it with him. His optics were bright and steady now. The long recharge had done him a world of good.

"Kind of yeah," Cliffjumper replied. "I think he'll be relieved that you're feeling better."

"I have you, and Ratchet, to thank for that," Mirage said. "Especially you."

"Keep in mind that it's my fault you got hurt in the first place," Cliffjumper replied. "I owe you a lot of apologies."

"You have apologized and I have forgiven you," Mirage reminded him.

"You forgive too easily," Cliffjumper replied.

"I don't think so," Mirage said. "I would like you to promise me one thing, if you will."

"Anything," Cliffjumper replied.

"Once in a while, would you refuel with me?" Mirage asked. "My patrols don't often line up with Hound's and it gets lonely refuelling in my room."

"I'll refuel with you more than just once in a while," Cliffjumper promised. "You should have slagging smacked me on the back of the head a long time ago for acting like an aft for nothing."

"It would have been rude," Mirage replied. "I won't deny the thought passed through my processor though."

"Softspark," Cliffjumper teased.

Mirage chuckled. His father had called him that. It hadn't been a compliment. Coming from Cliffjumper, the nickname made his spark jump. He didn't forgive as easily as Cliffjumper thought. No, Mirage forgave Cliffjumper most anything because that pesky infatuation he had developed for Cliffjumper back on Cybertron had not faded yet. It should have, Mirage had really never believed himself to be masochistic. But then things like this happened and Cliffjumper showed his friendlier self to him and Mirage only felt that infatuation grow stronger.

"I've got a patrol in an hour but I'd like to refuel with you when I get back," Cliffjumper said.

"I'll meet you in the common room," Mirage replied. "You should get ready for your patrol."

"Yeah," Cliffjumper said, jumping off the berth. "See you later."

"Later," Mirage said. Mirage was very grateful Ratchet was not in the medbay. The way his spark was trying to pulse out of its casing would must surely be displaying on the readouts.

Ratchet returned as Cliffjumper was leaving. Mirage hoped he wouldn't look at the readouts, and Primus must have been feeling charitable because he didn't. Instead, Ratchet led him off to his office so that they could have a truly private talk.

"You're looking a lot better, Mirage," Ratchet said after sitting down at his desk. Mirage sat across from him. "Now that I know the full extent of what happened to you I have a more realistic idea of when I want to put you back on the duty roster. Tentatively, I'm going to say three more days of leave before you can go back out on patrol. I say tentatively because there is a condition to this. You need to be recharging properly these next three nights and be free from waking fluxes."

"I understand," Mirage said. "I promise I'll come see you if I have any issues."

"Good," Ratchet said. "Okay, you can go. Take care of yourself."

"I will," Mirage said.

Where would Hound be at this time during the day? He should be back from patrol, but that didn't mean Hound would actually be in the Ark. Mirage avoided the common room for now and tried Hound's room. Hound didn't answer his knock. As he turned away from the door, Mirage saw Hound coming towards him from down the hall.

"'Raj," Hound said. "I heard from Optimus that you were back in the medbay, are you okay?"

"I'm better," Mirage replied. "I came here to find you. Hound, I'm so sorry."

"I understand," Hound said. "You weren't feeling good."

"That's not an excuse for taking it out on you," Mirage replied. "Please don't minimize it."

"I wish you'd have said something to me," Hound sighed.

"I'm sorry," Mirage apologized. "I was ashamed. I thought I was weak and I didn't want anyone to know."

"Let's go inside," Hound said. "Are you ready to talk to me about it? You don't have to, of course. I'd just like to know if I can help."

"Bombshell hacked my processor," Mirage explained. "It made some of my memories play back to me every time I offlined my optics. I couldn't sleep. I have to admit, I'm not entirely comfortable recharging yet. Don't repeat this to anyone, I'm feeling afraid of the dark."

"He kept you in the dark?" Hound asked, he felt sick and angry about what he was only now learning had happened to his friend.

"Exactly," Mirage replied. "Except when he was digging in my memories."

"What memories did he replay for you?" Hound asked.

"Different ones, but the ones he hacked were of Cliffjumper," Mirage explained.

"Oh," Hound said. "Why Cliffjumper, I wonder."

"Because when he dug around in my processor he discovered that I liked Cliffjumper," Mirage said.

"Say what?" Hound said, blinking. "Cliffjumper? Really? When?"

"Back on Cybertron," Mirage said. "I developed a little crush once we started getting along."

"Ah," Hound replied. "Just a crush?"

"My rescue from the Towers kind of bumped it up a notch," Mirage explained.

"Oh," Hound replied. "Oh. Oh. Oh, Cliffjumper the pleasure bot."

"Yes, although I wouldn't have referred to him as such, that didn't help," Mirage said. "He looked... Gorgeous."

"But you never said anything," Hound said.

"He would've slagged me," Mirage said. "You know how he felt about Towers mechs. And how he felt about being mistaken for a pleasure bot."

"You seem to have a masochistic streak," Hound said. "So you still like Cliffjumper?"

"I do," Mirage admitted.

"Oh Raj," Hound said. "When he called you a traitor..."

"I felt like my spark was breaking," Mirage sighed.

"And now?" Hound asked.

"Giddy," Mirage admitted. "We're refuelling together tonight."

"Are you going to tell him how you feel?" Hound asked.

"Pit, no," Mirage replied. "I want to be friends with him. That's not going to happen if I tell him I'm in love with him."

"'Raj," Hound sighed, and rubbed his forehead plate. "You frustrate me sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," Mirage said.

"Wouldn't it feel better if you were honest about your feelings?" Hound asked.

"Not if I got rejected," Mirage answered. "And I would be. Cliffjumper could never like me as more than a friend."

"Do you really think you're unlovable?" Hound asked. "'Raj, your creator was a cruel, self-righteous aft. He shouldn't have ever had a sparkling."

"It isn't that," Mirage replied. "Did you know one of my neighbour's tried to rape him? I don't think he ever told anyone. We said he was attacked. I almost couldn't stop Rollover in time. I killed that mech with my servos. I smashed his head into the floor until he was dead."

Hound just stared at Mirage slack jawed. He couldn't form words. Mirage had killed a mech and he hadn't known. But the attempted rape did explain why Cliffjumper had gone from friendly with Mirage to shunning him in the span of one night. Hound had thought it was strange that an attack would trigger such a visceral reaction.

"You saved him," Hound said after a few more minutes of gap mouthed staring. "Why would that hurt your chances with him."

"Because a Towers mech pinned him down and tore open his plating," Mirage said. "I'm a Tower mech. Nothing about me could be attractive to him."

"You could be wrong," Hound argued. "I remember Rollover. He was a big mech, heavily armoured for a Towers. Your models couldn't be more different."

"All the same, I'm not saying anything," Mirage said.

"Well I can't make you," Hound replied. "Still, refuelling. You could almost call it a date."

Mirage sat the table farthest from the entrance of the common room. He wanted to see Cliffjumper come in and he wanted to keep his distance from to gang of minibots cloistered by the entrance. They kept looking at him while Mirage tried to focus only on the door. At least he couldn't hear them. Gears and Huffer were the worst for trying to draw Mirage into a confrontation. Mirage hadn't risen to the bait yet and he never would but every time he saw them his faceplates heated up. It reminded him of his sparkhood. He'd dealt with the bullies there the same way.

Cliffjumper flew into the room, a red bundle of energy. Gears tried to draw him over to his table but Cliffjumper blew him off and scanned the room. When he spotted Mirage, and his cubes, he came right over to him. Mirage ignored the death glare Gears levelled at him and smiled warmly at Cliffjumper. He ignored the way his spark jumped in his chassis and offered Cliffjumper a cube once the mech had taken his seat.

"Sorry I'm late," Cliffjumper apologized.

"Patrols have a tendency to run late," Mirage replied. "How was your patrol?"

"Boring," Cliffjumper replied. "Nothing but empty desert."

"Now is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Mirage asked, his optics were glinting with humour.

"Well I would've been really late if it'd been interesting," Cliffjumper laughed. "Mirage, I saw your berth room. You have a lot of datadisks. What's on them?"

"Collections of books," Mirage said. "Hound gives them to me. I've told him that he could just add the collections to one disk but he likes keeping the collections separate."

"And maybe he just wants you to have something," Cliffjumper suggested. "Why don't you have anything? A keepsake, something."

"I haven't collected anything," Mirage replied.

"Why not?" Cliffjumper asked. "You've gotta have some interests."

"I do," Mirage said. "I like music, and illusions. Other things, of course. But I guess you could say those are my passions and they don't lend themselves to decorating a room."

"Illusions, like magic tricks?" Cliffjumper asked

"Exactly," Mirage replied. "Humans have such incredible imaginations and they come up with amazing tricks."

"Can you show me one?" Cliffjumper asked.

"Alright," Mirage said. "Let me get a few empty cubes."

Mirage fetched three empty cubes from the dispenser and returned to the their table. He took a bolt from a compartment in his leg and put it on the table in front of the cubes. Cliffjumper sat forward in his chair.

"Watch the bolt," Mirage said as he lined the three cubes upside down on the table and placed the bolt under the middle cube. He rotated the cubes around each other on the table, slowly, than quickly. Cliffjumper leaned forward on the table, staring intently at the cubes. After a few more rotations, Mirage lined the cubes up again.

"Okay, which cube is the bolt under?" Mirage asked. His hand flat on the table in front of him.

"The left one?" Cliffjumper asked. Mirage lifted the cube on Cliffjumper's left. There was nothing underneath it.

"Which one is it under?" Cliffjumper asked. He was smiling brightly. Mirage lifted up the other two cubes. It wasn't under either of them. Cliffjumper looked up at Mirage's face and back at the cubes.

"Where is it?" Cliffjumper asked.

Mirage lifted his right servo and showed Cliffjumper his palm; he was holding the bolt in his palm between the joints of his servo. Cliffjumper clapped and laughed; Mirage smiled and dropped the cube.

"It's all about slight of hand," Mirage explained.

"Didn't know you could do anything like that," Cliffjumper said. "When did you learn to do that?"

"A while ago," Mirage replied. "I saw a human magician do it on TV, and I started practising it in my spare time."

"I love it, can you do anything else?" Cliffjumper asked.

"I know a few tricks," Mirage replied.

"I'd like to see more," Cliffjumper said.

"I'd be happy to show you them," Mirage replied. "I keep my supplies in my desk."

"Can I come back with you?" Cliffjumper asked.

"Of course," Mirage said. "Let's go then."

At Cliffjumper's behest, Mirage put on some music while he brought out his props. Cliffjumper revved his engine to the beat of the music. He'd heard the song before, it was one of his favourites, Long Way To Go, by the Dan Reed Network. Mirage couldn't have known that it he liked the band, or the song. Rock, Cliffjumper never would have guessed that Mirage was into rock.

"I don't know anything about you," Cliffjumper said to himself. Mirage heard him.

"Oh?" Mirage asked.

"I didn't peg you for liking rock'n roll," Cliffjumper explained. "I just assumed you'd like classical or something. Towers stereotype. I keep forgetting you broke the mold."

"I'm my creator's model," Mirage said. "I was literally created in his image."

"That's sort of weird," Cliffjumper replied.

"I agree," Mirage said. "But I was fond of youthful rebellion, and I suppose I never grew out of it."

"Good thing," Cliffjumper said. "That means we have more in common than I thought. Chess, music and your magic tricks."

Mirage smiled and looked down at his props, his spark was pulsing a little too fast.

Cliffjumper thought best when he was moving so once he left Mirage he went for a drive. He definitely needed to get Mirage a chess board, one that didn't fit the mold. It would cost him some serious credits, but Cliffjumper figured he could get Sunstreaker to make him something interesting. The Twins weren't friendly with Mirage so he wouldn't see the gift while Sunstreaker was working on it. It would cost Cliffjumper extra credits just to bribe them to keep quiet. That covered one new decoration for Mirage's room but Cliffjumper wanted to give him something else, something to do with magic. On his second lap around the desert, the idea came to Cliffjumper and he raced back to the Ark with a tune in his vocalizer.

He had to leave the second gift for later, but he could cover the first just by finding Sunstreaker. Now where would the yellow Lamborghini be? In the training room, or in the common room. The common room was the the first room Cliffjumper would get so it was the logical place to start.

The room was a mess. Energon covered the floor and several tables and chairs were overturned. Pieces of a denta plate were in the energon pool. Cliffjumper wondered over to the few mechs still hanging around the common room, Windcharger and Bumblebee.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Sunstreaker," Bumblebee said. "He took out Smokescreen.

"Slag, why?" Cliffjumper asked.

"Smokescreen was hitting on Sides," Bumblebee explained. "Teasing, you know? Sunstreaker took offence and decided to rearrange his faceplates."

"Ow," Cliffjumper winced. "Stupid, though. Sunny might put up with a little teasing, but tease Sides and you're gonna get hurt."

"Yeah," Windcharger agreed. "I've seen Smokescreen flirt with Sunny, and I guess Smokescreen thought Sides was fair game."

"What an idiot," Cliffjumper shook his head. "Guess Sunny's in the brig?"

"Oh yeah," Bumble replied. "Prowl is not happy."

"So what are you two still doing here?" Cliffjumper asked.

"We lost the lottery and get to clean up," Bumblebee replied. "Don't suppose you want to help out."

"Sorry, busy," Cliffjumper said; he waved. "Have fun."

Cliffjumper considered just waiting until Sunstreaker was released from the brig but he decided it would be easy to get to Sunstreaker in the brig then anywhere else. He looked for Prowl first, just in case Sunstreaker was in solitary. Prowl was in his office, only a few doors from the brig wing. His door wings were raised high on his back, Cliffjumper had been in trouble enough to know that this was one of Prowl's tells for when he was angry. Understandable, Autobot discipline was one of Prowl's responsibilities, Sunstreaker was far from disciplined.

"Prowl?" Cliffjumper asked when he was called into the room. "I need to talk to Sunny for a minute, would that be okay?"

"Go ahead," Prowl said. "He's alone in the first cell."

"What, Sides didn't join in?" Cliffjumper asked.

"No, he calmed Sunstreaker down," Prowl said. "That's probably why Sunstreaker didn't do more than break Smokescreen's denta."

"Who's stupid enough to tease Sides anyways?" Cliffjumper asked. "Sunny's slagging protective of his brother."

"Indeed," Prowl replied.

Sunstreaker was exactly where Prowl had said he would be. He was sulking against the back wall of the cell. Cliffjumper knocked on the wall next to the force field in order to get his attention. The brooding mech stalked over to the force field and glowered at the smaller mech.

"What do you want?" Sunstreaker asked.

"I'd like you to make something for me," Cliffjumper said. "A chess board. It's a gift for someone."

"A chess board?" Sunstreaker asked, sounding dubious.

"I want it to be different," Cliffjumper explained. "I'm giving you artistic license. It just needs to be a functional chess board."

"Pieces too?" Sunstreaker asked, now sounding intrigued.

"Yeah," Cliffjumper replied.

"You know it'll cost you," Sunstreaker said.

"Yeah," Cliffjumper replied. "Name your price."

"Seriously?" Sunstreaker leaned in close the the force field. "Must be special. Who's this for anyway?"

"I'm only telling you so you can take him into account," Cliffjumper said. "It's for Mirage."

"Mirage?" Sunstreaker asked, surprised. "Thought you hated that mech."

"He's actually my friend," Cliffjumper informed him.

"Seriously?" Sunstreaker laughed. "You sure have a weird way of showing it."

"Well, I'm a slagging bad friend," Cliffjumper replied. "And I want to start making up for it."

"Got it," Sunstreaker said, nodding to himself. An image of the board he would create was beginning to form in his processor. "This is a surprise, right?"

"Yep," Cliffjumper replied. "I know you'll tell Sides but keep it to yourself otherwise."

"I'm sure we can come to an understanding," Sunstreaker said, a smile on his faceplates and credits flashing across his optics.

Cliffjumper did manage to come to an understanding with the Twins, one that set him back a small fortune in credits. He didn't mind, after all he could have just gone to some human game store and purchased a copy of their version of the game but Cliffjumper wanted Mirage to have something of Cybertron so he handed over his credits without even the slightest hesitation. Sunstreaker promised to get to work on it immediately, and to have something to show him in the next week. The only decision Cliffjumper had left to make was whether or not he was going to wait until the chess set was done before presenting Mirage with his other gifts. Patience was not one of Cliffjumper's strong points and he itched to see Mirage's reaction to his other gifts.

Mirage was back on the duty roster and back out on patrol. It left Cliffjumper with the perfect opportunity to install his gifts. Before he broke into Mirage's room, he needed a cube. The common room was packed with mechs; Cliffjumper couldn't avoid the table his friends tended to gather around, and they were most all gathering around it right this second.

"What's up with you Cliffjumper?" Gears asked before Cliffjumper could sneak passed their table.

"Nothing," Cliffjumper replied. "I'm just busy."

"With Mirage," Gears countered with a derisive sniff to his voice.

"Back off," Cliffjumper snapped. "He's never done anything to you. Why do you hate him so much?"

"Towers mechs are all the same," Gears said hotly. "I'm just sorry he wasn't in the Towers when Megatron blew them up. Then there'd be none of them left."

"Aft," Cliffjumper swore. Bumblebee murmured a similar statement and Cliffjumper stalked away from the table.

End Chapter 2

A/N Thanks for reviewing, and favouriting this story. There's so little Mirage/ Cliffjumper out there it's nice to know that there is at least an audience out there that wants to read it. Next update will be in a week or so. I haven't actually finished this fic. I have one final chapter, chapter 6 to write and it's not coming quickly so I'm hoping that if I stretch out the updates I won't leave you hanging at the end.


	3. Chapter 3

Ring Around the Rosie

Chapter 3

This was once going to be a nice, simple PWP. Damn plot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Cliffjumper wants to make it up to Mirage for acting like an aft. He notices that Mirage is not fairing so well after his run in with the Insecticons.

Warning: M/M robot slashy goodness.

Pairings: Mirage/ Cliffjumper

Cliffjumper didn't realize how angry Gears had made him until he grabbed a cube at the dispenser and found that his servo wouldn't stop shaking. He stood by the dispenser, staring at the shaking cube and fuming with rage. How could Gears say that? An image of Mirage buried in the rumble of the splendid Towers shot into Cliffjumper's processor and he shook his helm trying to erase the image. It hadn't happened, and Cliffjumper felt a surge of gratitude to Primus. And if Cliffjumper ever heard Gears say that again, especially around Mirage, he'd do worse that rearrange Gears faceplates.

"Okay, Cliffjumper?" Bumblebee asked, a servo on Cliffjumper's shoulder.

"Yeah, sure," Cliffjumper replied, looking over his shoulder at Bumblebee.

"You know its good, you and Mirage being friends, I mean," Bumblebee said. "He obviously doesn't have many."

"It's not his fault, you know," Cliffjumper told him. "He's a nice mech, one of the nicest."

"I don't know him well enough to pass judgement," Bumblebee replied. "But if you're friends with him then that's enough for me."

"'Bee?" Cliffjumper asked, confused by Bumblebee's statement.

"He's obviously a good mech if you're friends with him," Bumblebee said. "I'll try and settle Gears down. Don't let him get to you. You know how he is."

"Thanks 'Bee," Cliffjumper said. "Probably better if I don't end up in the brig for slagging him."

"It wouldn't help either," Bumblebee added. "He'd blame Mirage."

"You're probably right," Cliffjumper sighed. "I've got some stuff to do. But thanks, Bee."

"No problem," Bumblebee said, turning around and returning to the other minibots.

It was nice to know at least one of his friends trusted his judgement. Cliffjumper filled his cube and downed it quickly. The common room wasn't feeling too welcoming and Cliffjumper wanted to get his gifts and himself in Mirage's room before anything else happened. Luckily, he hadn't wasted too much time arguing with Gears, Mirage wouldn't be back from his patrol for a couple of hours yet. Leaving the common room behind, Cliffjumper returned to his own berth room and gathered his gifts in his arms and made his way to Mirage's room. No one saw him override Mirage's lock and sneak into the room.

He laid out his gifts on Mirage's berth and looked around the sparse room. Cliffjumper picked up the first framed print on the pile and hummed from his engine as he decided where to hang the first picture. Well he couldn't put them at his optic level or they'd be too low for Mirage. An ever resourceful mech, Cliffjumper grabbed Mirage's chair from his desk and placed it against the wall and began the task of hanging the fourteen prints.

Mirage entered the code to unlock his door and found the door was already unlocked. That was careless, but there wasn't really any danger in leaving his room unlocked on the Ark. There wasn't anything to take. He activated the lights as the door slide shut behind him, and he nearly offlined with shock. Cliffjumper was sitting in the middle of his room, smiling at him. Four prints hung on the longer wall to his left and five on the right right, and three prints hung on the wall in front of him. Mirage spun around and saw two more prints on the wall with his door.

"The clerk at the store said symmetry is boring," Cliffjumper explained while Mirage stood slack-jawed. "That's why I didn't line up all the pictures perfectly."

"Cliffjumper, I," Mirage tried to speak as he looked from the prints to Cliffjumper and back again.

"Their optical illusions," Cliffjumper explained. "You have to turn off the auto focus on your optics but if you look at them long enough different pictures appear in them."

"I've heard of these," Mirage stepped over to the picture closest to his door, and did as Cliffjumper had instructed. "A flower. Cliffjumper. I don't know what to say."

"You don't hate them, do you?" Cliffjumper asked, and he stood. His engine revved nervously.

"No," Mirage replied, shaking his head and turning to smile at Cliffjumper. "I'm overwhelmed. Thank you."

"Now your room doesn't look so empty," Cliffjumper said. His engine was still revving quietly but he was smiling happily again.

"I can't believe you did this for me," Mirage said.

"You deserved it," Cliffjumper replied.

"Well, thank you," Mirage thanked him again and kissed the side of his mouth. "I have a couple of cubes subspaced, did you want to share them with me?"

"Sure," Cliffjumper said. His faceplates were hot and he was sure he was grinning like an idiot. He didn't think he had ever made someone smile like that before. The feeling it gave him made Cliffjumper feel buoyant. The feeling of the kiss lingered and Cliffjumper couldn't stop smiling. His fuel tank flip flopped and he thought to the chess set Sunstreaker was building and he couldn't wait to see how Mirage would react to that.

Cliffjumper returned to his own room a few hours later. Mirage sat on his berth and gazed admiringly at each picture. It wasn't so much the pictures he liked, although he did, it was more that Cliffjumper had given them to him. And he had kissed Cliffjumper, true it had been a rather chaste kiss but Cliffjumper hadn't rejected it. In fact, he'd blushed. Most mechs didn't visibly blush. Their faceplates heated up but mostly it was only noticeable to the mechs with the heated faceplates. The heat could be noticed by another mech but they had to be close. Cliffjumper was an exception, and he probably didn't even realize it or he would surely have hidden his face.

The plates that ended below Cliffjumper's optic plates shined when they heated. Mirage felt his spark flutter at the though of Cliffjumper blushing. When he thought about it, Mirage took Cliffjumper blushing as a good sign. Maybe he had more of a chance with him than he'd thought. It was too early for Mirage to recharge. Even it had been later, Mirage felt a little too energetic to rest quite yet. Instead, he called Hound.

"Hound?" Mirage called over his comm. "Are you free?"

"Sure, where are you?" Hound replied.

"My quarters," Mirage said. "Come by, there's something I want to show you."

Hound paused in the doorway when he arrived at Mirage's room. He looked around the room, at each picture before stepping inside. Mirage smiled with barely contained glee from his perch on his berth.

"Who?" Hound asked; he joined Mirage on the berth. "Cliffjumper?"

"Cliffjumper," Mirage confirmed. "He did it while I was out on patrol. I came back here to find him sitting in the dark, waiting to surprise me."

"Wow," Hound replied. "This is quite a gesture."

"He didn't like my lack of decor," Mirage explained.

"I think he solved that problem," Hound said, "Now what are these?"

"Optical illusions," Mirage explained. "A picture hidden behind a picture."

"You said you showed him a few magic tricks," Hound commented. "He really took something from it."

"And he let me kiss him," Mirage added.

"Really?" Hound asked. "I told you you had a shot."

"Just a little kiss," Mirage said. "But he blushed, and he didn't run away. We refuelled talking about the prints."

"And you are all too pleased," Hound laughed. "I'm happy for you 'Raj. You deserve to be with the mech you want."

"Thanks Hound," Mirage said. "I'm not raising my hopes too high but it doesn't seem quite so hopeless."

Sunstreaker used his own berth room as a studio. By the nature of their shared spark, he and Sideswipe could only recharge well when close to each other. 'Bots talked about their living arrangements in low whispers. Rumours abounded that they 'faced each other and that's why neither of them 'faced with other mechs. Cliffjumper didn't care whether they did or not but like all the other 'Bots they each had their own berth room so even if the Twins recharged together, Sunstreaker still had his own room.

Cliffjumper shifted his weight from ped to ped before he mustered up the courage to press Sunstreaker's door alarm. Sunstreaker answered the door and stepped aside to let Cliffjumper in. The walls of Sunstreaker's room were covered with murals of Cybertron. Sculptures in different stages of completion filled the room. Most of them were covered with sheets of material, hiding them from sight. Sunstreaker led Cliffjumper over to a particular one and removed the clothe.

"You didn't say if you wanted it to have a stand or not," Sunstreaker said. "So I built it with one, makes it more interesting."

The chess set stood on four legs. They were narrow on the bottom and veered out wider at the top, the square chess board sat on top of the legs, attached at each corner. The stand and board were black and Auto bot red, trimmed in silver The pieces were also black and red. The castles were tall twists of metal and reminded Cliffjumper of the Towers.

"You're really good," Cliffjumper said, looking over every inch of the table.

"I am," Sunstreaker preened. "Well it's done. The pieces are magnetized they won't fall off but you can move them as per the game. Did you need any help getting it to Mirage?"

"No," Cliffjumper said. "I'll manage. He'll be on patrol for a while longer. I have lots of time to set it up."

"If he doesn't like it, he's not worth your time," Sunstreaker said. Cliffjumper gave him a sour look even as his faceplates heated. With great care he pick up the table, trying not to knock the pieces and carried it out the door. Sunstreaker watched him leave and than responded to the laughter he felt from Sideswipe over their relay. His brother was back in their berth room but Sunstreaker had flashed him images of his meeting with Cliffjumper.

"Do you think he knows you can tell when he blushes?" Sunstreaker asked Sideswipe over thecomm.

"I really doubt it," Sideswipe replied. "Bet Mirage does."

Oblivious to the laughter being exchanged at his expense, Cliffjumper struggled to carry the table back to Mirage's room in an entirely different section of domestic wing of the Ark. This time, the hall wasn't empty when he entered the hall that led to Mirage's room. Hound stepped out of his own room and turned to see Cliffjumper struggling down the hall.

"Do you want some help?" Hound asked, walking towards him.

"Maybe," Cliffjumper said, giving Hound a shadowed look. "You won't tell him..."

"No, no, it's a surprise, I understand," Hound replied. He took one side of the table and helped Cliffjumper carry it the rest of the way to Mirage's room. Hound entered Mirage's door code. He didn't have to hack it to get in. They placed the table against the wall opposite Mirage's berth. Cliffjumper checked every piece to make sure it was set up perfectly while Hound sat back on his peds and admired the table.

"He'll love it, you know," Hound said, smiling. "He loved playing with you back at my house."

"I liked playing with him too," Cliffjumper replied. "Why doesn't he already have a board?"

"We play on mine," Hound said. "I think Mirage used it as an excuse to avoid his room."

"Why would he want to do that?" Cliffjumper asked.

"Well, I would guess that it didn't feel like home until you started adding these little touches," Hound said. "Cliffjumper, I don't suppose you like Mirage? You know, like him."

"Maybe," Cliffjumper said, faceplates heating as they always did. "I just can't believe he might like me."

"I can almost guarantee he does," Hound replied. "You know... He remembers your rescue of him rather fondly."

"Oh," Cliffjumper felt as if he's faceplates were steaming. Pleasure bot Cliffjumper. His intakes hissed.

"I'm not suggesting dolling yourself up like that," Hound said. "But maybe clean up a little."

"I need to find a couple of chairs for the table," Cliffjumper changed the subject.

"I can handle that," Hound replied. "Why don't you visit the wash racks and then come back here and wait for Mirage with a couple of cubes? I know he's on a tiresome patrol today."

"Okay," Cliffjumper said. "Yeah. Okay."

Cliffjumper couldn't deny he'd thought about 'facing with Mirage. The second any mech stopped thinking about the Towers and actually looked at Mirage, he'd be thinking about it too. Mirage was perfect, made up of smooth, sleek lines. He was narrower than the average mech, with broad shoulders and long legs and arms. His faceplates were perfectly shaped and his optics were large and bright and when he laughed the sound hit Cliffjumper in the spark and it got all fluttery. Until he'd come back to his senses and stopped being an aft, that feeling had made him angry. Now, Cliffjumper didn't know how it made him feel.

From how he acted, Mirage did seem to like him. Why else would he have kissed him? Mirage did not play games with other mechs' heads. The more Cliffjumper thought about it, the more he thought he really did need to give himself a good scrubbing in the wash racks. At the very least he could present the best him he could offer.

The problem with cleaning up wasn't really cleaning part as the waxing part. Cliffjumper could never reach all of his body and always ended up being covered in dull spots. He always ended up going out and getting dirty just to hide the lousy job he'd done. Most 'Bots that didn't have lovers or mates to help them had their friends get those hard to reach spots but Cliffjumper felt stupid approaching his friends. Gears and Powerglide would ask questions, and Huffer would complain. He wasn't sure what 'Bee, 'Charger or 'Comber would say but they were almost always with one of their problem friends and those questions and complaints were exactly what he wanted to avoid. So resigning himself to failure, but still determined to try, Cliffjumper began to wax himself. And as per usual, he made a total mess of it.

"Need some help?" Windcharger asked as he stepped into the waxing section of the wash racks. He was freshly cleaned himself.

"Obviously," Cliffjumper said, turning to face his friend.

"So this is why you're never waxed," Windcharger said, snickering. "Why didn't you ask for help. 'Bee always helps me but he's out somewhere."

"Help me, and I'll help you," Cliffjumper offered.

"Is this for Mirage?" Windcharger asked while he was waxing Cliffjumper's back.

"What makes you think that?" Cliffjumper asked, sputtering with surprise.

"You're clean, you actually want to be waxed," Windcharger replied. "And you've been pretty focused on him lately."

"You going to give me a hard time too?" Cliffjumper asked, feeling defensive.

"On the contrary," Windcharger replied. "If you like him, I say go for it."

"Really?" Cliffjumper asked. "I thought you didn't like Towers mechs."

"I can't say I've been fond of the ones I've been around but Mirage has never done anything to me, or said anything to hurt me so I can't really say anything about him," Windcharger replied. "I will admit, I'm not exactly comfortable around him but he keeps his distance. I don't imagine he likes being around Gears or Powerglide or Huffer."

"He doesn't complain about them to me," Cliffjumper said. "But he doesn't complain about anything to me. I think he thinks it's rude."

"Really?" Windcharger asked. "That's kind of funny. A perfect gentlemen."

"Yeah," Cliffjumper replied. "But it's nice that he isn't trying to ask me to choose him over one of my other friends."

Both Windcharger and Cliffjumper left the wash racks, shiny and clean and laughing happily. Just as they left the wash racks, they ran into Gears. Gears's optics flashed with barely concealed rage and jealousy. Windcharger vented softly and rolled his optics. Cliffjumper just scowled.

"I'm going to find 'Bee," Windcharger said. "See you later."

"See you," Cliffjumper said before turning his attention to Gears. "What's your slagging problem?"

"You know what my problem is," Gears replied bitterly. "You've completely abandoned your friends for that mech. And now you're prettying yourself up for him."

"I haven't abandoned anyone," Cliffjumper snapped. "I'd hang around with you more if you didn't give me a hard time about Mirage every time I see you."

"You're just making excuses," Gears snapped back.

"Here's an excuse, you're a slagging aft and I don't want to talk to you until you grow up and apologize," Cliffjumper replied, turned and stalked off. Gears stared after him before stomping off, cursing Mirage's name.

Hound had gone from Mirage's room before Cliffjumper arrived. Cliffjumper was glad for it. He put down the cubes he'd picked up from the common room. All he wanted to do calm down from his confrontation with Gears before Mirage arrived. There was no way he was going to let Gears ruin his mood. The chairs Hound had found were the same style as the one at Mirage's desk. They were standard chairs for the Ark. They were boxy and stood in marked contrast to the elegant lines of the chess table, the same elegant line of Mirage's own form. Sunstreaker was awfully clever.

Cliffjumper sat at the chess table and watched the door. He wanted Mirage to get home and to see the table. With his luck, Mirage's patrol would run late. That would annoying. As much as Cliffjumper wanted to show Mirage the table, if Mirage came home tired Cliffjumper would feel guilty for intruding. He fidgeted anxiously, and then froze as the door slid open.

"Welcome back, Mirage," Cliffjumper called before Mirage stepped in the door.

Mirage froze and stared at Cliffjumper. The scene before him was straight out of his fantasies. Cliffjumper sitting in his room, freshly waxed and gorgeous, waiting for him with energon. He sucked a sharp breath of air through his intakes and vented slowly. His engine revved and his spark pulsed like a hummingbird in its casing. Only then did he notice the table, and Mirage walked slowly over to Cliffjumper. He didn't say anything, not trusting his voice.

"Sunstreaker made it," Cliffjumper said as he watched Mirage run his long digits over the surface of the table and board. Mirage picked up one of the pieces, a pawn and ran his digits over it.

"This must have cost you a fortune," Mirage said. "Why? I... You already gave me the pictures."

"That was just to add some colour," Cliffjumper said. "This is to say I... I don't know. I just wanted to give you something really special."

"Cliffjumper, this is more than just special," Mirage replied. "This is. This is incredible."

He leaned across the table and kissed Cliffjumper firmly on his lips. Cliffjumper squeaked, and Mirage drew back, and lowered his optics.

"I'm sorry," Mirage said softly. Cliffjumper licked his lips. His engine revved and his intakes hissed. His spark fluttered painfully in his chassis.

"No need to apologize," Cliffjumper said. He reached his hands up and touched Mirage's faceplates before leaning up and kissing him.

Mirage stepped around the table and knelt beside Cliffjumper and held the sides of his helm and drew him down into another kiss. Cliffjumper threw his arms around Mirage's neck and opened his mouth to deepen the embrace. Mirage took the invitation at face value and explored Cliffjumper's mouth with his glossa. He drew back and kissed Cliffjumper's jaw, his faceplates and back to his mouth. Cliffjumper moaned in response to the kiss and clutched Mirage's neck; he tilted his head and exposed his neck to Mirage. The larger mech took full advantage and sucked along the joint of Cliffjumper's neck and jaw; Cliffjumper parted his lips and moaned softly.

The touch sent little burst of pleasure through his body and into his spark. He dug his servos into Mirage's shoulders, and tried to cling to his sanity as Mirage covered the taunt cables of his throat with kisses and love bites. Mirage seemed to know exactly where to kiss, where to suck or to bite. Cliffjumper hadn't known how sensitive his throat was.

"Mirage," Cliffjumper moaned. Mirage nipped the juncture of Cliffjumper's neck and chassis and drew him down into his arms. Cliffjumper shivered and wrapped his legs around Mirage's waist. All he could do was hold on. He wanted to do something, touch Mirage, make him moan but Mirage had him completely at his mercy. Mirage stood and Cliffjumper clung tighter to him with both his arms and his legs and he took a greedy breath through his intakes and moaned softly as Mirage sat on his berth and kissed him again.

"Gorgeous," Mirage said in a voice heavy with lust. He ran his hands up Cliffjumper's back and over his arms and took Cliffjumper's servos in his and drew them off his back.

He plundered Cliffjumper's mouth and intertwined their digits as he laid him back against the berth. Cliffjumper's chassis heaved with the force of his intakes and vents. His engine revved in a long, continuous hum. Primus, how could Mirage do this to him just by kissing him? Mirage watched him with gleaming, carnal optics. The sight made Cliffjumper shiver and lick his lips; his own optics were glazed over, large and brilliant.

"Just gorgeous," Mirage said. He brought one of Cliffjumper's servos to his lips and kissed his palm. Cliffjumper let his legs fall from around Mirage's waist and he shuttered his optics and shivered again as Mirage kissed his wrist joint and sucked down on it. Pleasure shot through Cliffjumper as Mirage drew his other servo up and kissed it as he had the first. Each kiss and suck on Cliffjumper arm joints made him shiver and moan softly. His arms, Mirage sucked the tips of Cliffjumper's finger tips.

"'Raj," Cliffjumper whimpered. Mirage released his servos and rested them next to Cliffjumper's head. Just his arms and neck, how was Mirage able to do this to him?

It was difficult for Cliffjumper to think. Mirage smoothed his long digits over Cliffjumper's vents and felt the other's ragged gasps. He smiled wickedly. This was also something out of his fantasies, and it was so much better in reality than it had ever been in fantasy. He licked Cliffjumper's vents and tasted the joints of Cliffjumper's chassis plating. His fingers ghosted over Cliffjumper's sides and and found the hinges of Cliffjumper's armour and uncoupled the armour. Mirage slipped the armour off of Cliffjumper, leaving him unfettered access to Cliffjumper's protoform. Rows ofctables made up the sides of Cliffjumper's protoform. They connected to wires and gears and all his crucial components. Long stretches of cables, tubing, and energon lines ran from his spark chamber and interface panel.

Mirage admired Cliffjumper's exposed protoform and set to removing the remainder of Cliffjumper's armour. Nothing halted his ministrations now, every piece of plating even those over his panels were on the floor. He slipped a digit under one of the primary cables that led from Cliffjumper's spark chamber. Cliffjumper jumped and the sudden jolt of pleasure rocked through his circuitry. His cable pressurized and he felt lubricant begin to leak from his valve.

"'Jumper," Mirage chuckled and kissed Cliffjumper's parted lips. He ran his digits along every cable and tube and wire he could reach. Cliffjumper jumped as each touch gave him another jolt of painful pleasure. Unable to do anything else, Cliffjumper tossed his head and clutched the berth, as Mirage nibbled and kissed down Cliffjumper abdomen. Mirage twisted his fingers in the wires of Cliffjumper's hips and swallowed Cliffjumper's pressurized cable with one move of his head.

"Oh sweet Primus," Cliffjumper cried and bucked into Mirage's mouth. Mirage pinned Cliffjumper's bucking hips down and drew his mouth off Cliffjumper's cable. He licked over the tip and tasted Cliffjumper's interface fluid. Cliffjumper cried as Mirage swallowed him again and reached his hands under Cliffjumper hips and massaged the sensor bundles that lined Cliffjumper's spine. He held Cliffjumper to him. Cliffjumper arched hard into Mirage's mouth and overloaded, crying Mirage's name. Mirage swallowed every drop.

He licked his lips and looked down at Cliffjumper. The minibots optics were shuttered and his intakes rumbled loudly. A pretty sheen coloured Cliffjumper's faceplates. Cliffjumper onlined his optics and stared up at Mirage.

"You're gorgeous, 'Jumper," Mirage said and kissed Cliffjumper again. Cliffjumper kissed him back and reached his hand up to hold Mirage's helm.

"You haven't overloaded," Cliffjumper panted. Mirage kissed the side of his mouth.

"There's time for that," Mirage replied, kissing Cliffjumper's blushing faceplates.

"Oh wow," Cliffjumper gasp. His systems were normalizing but still running hot. "Take off your armour. I want to see you."

"As you wish," Mirage replied. He sat back on his legs and carefully undid his own armour. Cliffjumper watched him with undisguised lust.

"I'm gorgeous?" Cliffjumper asked. He reached for Mirage and drew him back in for a kiss.

"Yes," Mirage replied, kissing him, letting Cliffjumper explore his body with lethargic servos. Mirage shivered as pleasure spiked in his circuits.

"So are you," Cliffjumper said.

"I'm glad you approve," Mirage smiled and kissed Cliffjumper lightly. "Lie on your front."

Cliffjumper gave him a quizzical look but sat up and turned around to lie on his front. Mirage kissed the back of Cliffjumper's neck and began to slowly massage every main cable that made up Cliffjumper's back structure. He could see the bundles of sensors on each segment of Cliffjumper's spinal structure, and Mirage began to massage each bundle with soft strokes of his digits. New spikes of pleasure shot through Cliffjumper and he arched into Mirage's servos.

Mirage leaned over Cliffjumper, never stopping his massage and kissed one of Cliffjumper's sensory horns. Cliffjumper arched his head back, and keened as Mirage kissed and licked up and down the horn. He dug his digits into the berth and pleaded wordlessly. Every touch of those bundles or his horns sent spikes of pleasure down Cliffjumper's back and into his valve. It became to much and Cliffjumper moved his hand to pleasure his own valve.

The sight of Cliffjumper reaching his digits into his own valve made Mirage's engine roar. He released Cliffjumper's horn and sat back and watched Cliffjumper pleasuring his valve. Cliffjumper moaned and gasped; Mirage rolled him over and knelt between Cliffjumper's legs. He took Cliffjumper's servos and pulled them onto his abdomen. Mirage kissed the insides of Cliffjumper's thighs before plunging his glossa into Cliffjumper's valve.

"'Raj," Cliffjumper cried and writhed against Mirage's mouth. He grabbed hold of Mirage's helm and held Mirage to him. Mirage tasted Cliffjumper and hummed into Cliffjumper's valve. The vibrations made Cliffjumper dig his digits into his helm and moan long and loud. Mirage massaged the joints of his thighs continued to swirl his glossa inside Cliffjumper.

"Ah, 'Raj!" Cliffjumper pleaded. Mirage replaced his glossa with a digit. Sitting up slowly, Cliffjumper dug his servos in Mirage's sides. He slowly rotated his digit around Cliffjumper's valve. Cliffjumper thrust himself back on the digit, biting his lip to hold back the overload building inside of him.

He was too hot. Cliffjumper groaned, his intakes screamed. Mirage was torturing him, slowly moving his digit about Cliffjumper's valve. Mirage withdrew his digit, and traced along the outside of Cliffjumper's valve with his digits, massaged it and eased two digits into Cliffjumper's valve. Cliffjumper wanted to push himself back on Mirage's digits but Mirage hushed him. It was torture. Mirage massaged the walls of Cliffjumper's valve as he stretched them apart, slowly, gently.

It was torture of Mirage too. He wanted to sheath himself in Cliffjumper's valve but knew that would only hurt Cliffjumper and Mirage forced himself to exert patience. He eased another digit into Cliffjumper's valve and Mirage twisted and turned his servo, rotating his digits inside Cliffjumper. Mirage kissed Cliffjumper's blushing faceplates. Cliffjumper's mouth quivered.

"Why aren't you 'facing me?" Cliffjumper whined.

"You aren't ready yet," Mirage replied, gently easing a fourth digit into Cliffjumper. Cliffjumper rolled his hips taking those digits deeper into his valve.

"Slagger," Cliffjumper swore. Mirage separated his digits slightly, and Cliffjumper clenched his valve around them and rocked back against Mirage's hand. "'Face me. Now."

End Chapter 3

A/N So I still haven't finished the finale chapter, really I haven't even started it. Other plots are zooming around in my brain on jet packs and my focus has been on Crack in the Pavement and a new fic, Many Shades of Black.

I will NOT update this fic again until the 24th of June and then again on the 3rd of July in the hopes that somewhere in there I can get the finale written. If the finale is written sooner, I'll move the updates up. Look for any progress updates in my author's section.


	4. Chapter 4

Ring Around the Rosie

Chapter 4

Demanding little thing, isn't Cliffjumper?

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Cliffjumper wants to make it up to Mirage for acting like an aft. He notices that Mirage is not fairing so well after his run in with the Insecticons.

Warning: M/M robot slashy goodness.

Pairings: Mirage/ Cliffjumper

"'Face me now," Cliffjumper demanded, raising his hips to meet Mirage's digits.

"As you command," Mirage replied. He removed his digits and Cliffjumper made a needy sound, as Mirage braced himself above Cliffjumper while he positioned the tip of his cable at the entrance of Cliffjumper's valve. With the tip of his cable barely inside Cliffjumper, Mirage braced both his hands next to Cliffjumper's shoulders and began to lower himself down on Cliffjumper.

The walls of Cliffjumper's valve shuddered around Mirage as he stopped with only a couple of inches of his cable inside Cliffjumper. He held himself there, letting Cliffjumper adjust to his size. Cliffjumper parted his legs farther apart and reached his servos around Mirage's mid back. Mirage's cable spread his valve, and it ached to accept the hard cable.

Cliffjumper dragged his digits down Mirage's back and groaned. Mirage lowered another couple of inches into Cliffjumper; his valve ached with painful pleasure as Mirage filled it, scraping against sensor nodes. Linking his peds around Mirage's waist, Cliffjumper tried to draw more of Mirage's cable into his aching valve.

"Stop teasing me," Cliffjumper hissed. He squeezed his valve around Mirage. And he whined as Mirage eased and other few inches of blistering hot cable into Cliffjumper. It wasn't enough. Mirage stopped again, hovering over Cliffjumper, taking the time to let Cliffjumper adjust.

"Stop teasing me," Cliffjumper hissed again. Already he felt full, and he strained around Mirage's cable. His valve adjusted, stretched. Every sensor node within him lit with pleasure as Mirage's cable rubbed along every one of them. Mirage sank deeper inside of him, rubbing along more sensors and parting more of Cliffjumper's valve.

"Slag, Mirage, stop teasing and 'face me," Cliffjumper demanded, while arching his back and holding Mirage to him, taking the rest of Mirage's cable into his valve. "Oh, slag."

Mirage held himself perfectly still. His arms shook at the strain of not pulling back and plunging right back into Cliffjumper. Cliffjumper's valve wrapped around Mirage's cable like a hot vice. Pleasure washed through Mirage and his intakes and engine roared. It felt so good, so good. Cliffjumper began to quiver under him, his valve clenching Mirage's cable involuntarily.

"Easy, 'Jumper," Mirage groaned. He withdrew his cable a few inches and sank back inside Cliffjumper. Biting his lip, Mirage repeated the gesture with gentle movements of his hips.

"'Raj," Cliffjumper exclaimed and grasped handfuls of Mirage's back cables. He rocked back into Mirage. "'Face me properly or I'm going to pin you to the berth and do it myself."

Cliffjumper cried out as Mirage's movements picked up speed. He did his best to match Mirage stroke for stroke. Both their engines roared and Cliffjumper grabbed Mirage's helm and kissed him as they moved together. Every movement of Mirage's cable dragged long jolts of pleasure out of Cliffjumper's sensors. He could feel his overloading building faster and faster, and Cliffjumper called out as Mirage sucked down on his horn. The revving of their engines filled Cliffjumper's audios, and he shuttered his optics and lost himself in the torturous pleasure Mirage inflicted upon him. His overload was burning through his circuits and Cliffjumper quaked around Mirage and he screamed.

He clung to Mirage even his overload drained all his energy. Mirage thrust into him a few more times before groaning into Cliffjumper's audios and overloading himself. Their intakes hissed loudly in unison and Mirage withdrew from Cliffjumper and collapsed beside him. Cliffjumper rolled over to face him and curled one of his legs over Mirage's and rested his head against Mirage's spark chamber. The fast, fluttering of Mirage's spark lulled Cliffjumper to recharge. Mirage stayed online a few minutes longer as he tried to regulate his systems, then he wrapped his arm around Cliffjumper and let himself recharge.

Cliffjumper dozed with the hum of Mirage's spark in his audios. He didn't want to online his optics; he was far too comfortable. His thighs felt sticky with the mixture of his and Mirage's fluids. There was a dull throb in his valve, not at all painful but a reminder of their interface. Optics still offline, and shuttered, Cliffjumper smiled and curled his digits around the circuitry beneath his servo. Mirage's spark hummed a little faster in Cliffjumper's audios. Another smile crossed Cliffjumper's faceplates and he turned his head and kissed the cover of Mirage's spark chamber.

"Ah," a little moan escaped Mirage and he shifted beneath Cliffjumper. "Good morning."

"Morning," Cliffjumper replied, he traced around Mirage's spark. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I knew a mech at the War Academy when I was young," Mirage explained. "I learned a lot about how sensitives joints and connectors can be from him."

"Wow," Cliffjumper said, still stroking Mirage's spark casing and eliciting little shivers from the larger mech. He looked up at Mirage's glowing optics. "Sensitive is right."

Mirage found and stroked one of the sensor bundles on Cliffjumper's back, drawing a shiver from him. Cliffjumper looked down at Mirage with challenge and lust in his optics. Accepting the challenge, Mirage moved provocatively under Cliffjumper's gaze. He pulled Cliffjumper onto his lap and began to pluck the cables of Cliffjumper's abdomen like a musician evoking a long moan from Cliffjumper. Not willing to just take the pleasure Mirage offered as he had the last time, Cliffjumper ran his servos over Mirage's spark chamber and along the the energon lines that fed his spark. A soft moan and tremble broke from Mirage. Cliffjumper kissed his throat and moaned against it as Mirage thumbed over his hip joints. Cliffjumper couldn't help but wriggle and writhe and leak lubricants on Mirage's lap. Mirage held Cliffjumper on his lap and ground himself up against Cliffjumper. Their cables pressurized and Mirage rubbed them together.

"I want to 'face again," Cliffjumper said. His valve ached to be filled.

"We will," Mirage said, and he rolled them over and began kissing and sucking and biting all over Cliffjumper's neck and upper chassis. He smoothed his mouth over energon lines and cables and teased the mesh of wires of Cliffjumper's abdomen.

"Primus," Cliffjumper gasped as Mirage went out of his way to blow his circuits. He kissed and licked over Cliffjumper's cable and Cliffjumper arched into Mirage's touch. Mirage brought Cliffjumper's legs over his shoulders and dove his glossa into his valve. Cliffjumper clenched his thighs around Mirage's head and moaned urgently as Mirage ravished his valve and cable with glossa and digits. It didn't take much to prepare Cliffjumper's valve after their recent interface, still Mirage was thorough, and he thoroughly drove Cliffjumper out of his processor.

"'Face, now," Cliffjumper demanded, squirming. Mirage chuckled and kissed his way back up Cliffjumper, he penetrated his valve in one smooth, slow stroke.

"Yes," Cliffjumper moaned, linking his peds behind Mirage's thighs. Mirage 'faced him slowly, wringing groans and gasp from Cliffjumper with each slow thrust. It was maddening.

"More, 'Raj." Cliffjumper demanded, grabbing Mirage's shoulders and tried speed up the 'face. Mirage teased him, 'faced him a little faster but not fast enough and not rough enough for Cliffjumper; Mirage was treating him too gently. Cliffjumper wanted more and he was going to get it. He flipped them over and impaled himself again on Mirage's cable. Cliffjumper rode Mirage with urgency. Mirage held his hips and let Cliffjumper set the pace, meeting each thrust. Their engines revved faster with each meeting. Metal ground against metal and the sounds and smells of interface filled the room.

Cliffjumper reached into Mirage's chassis and drew one of his cables towards himself; he looked to Mirage for his consent. Mirage released Cliffjumper's hips and reached for one of Cliffjumper's cables. They connected the cables into their ports near simultaneously. Both mechs shuddered as they flooded each other with data.

"'Jumper," Mirage moaned and clutched Cliffjumper's hip again and they moved together with even greater urgency.

"'Raj" Cliffjumper knew he would overload any minute and he didn't want to leave Mirage behind. He braced his hands on either side of Mirage's spark and sent a powerful stream of data through their connection. He showered Mirage with a torrent of emotions and sensation while twisting his digits in his circuits. Through their connection, Cliffjumper felt Mirage's overload coming and surrendered himself to his own just as Mirage flooded his valve with his interface fluid. Cliffjumper collapsed onto top of Mirage and felt to spent to disconnect their cables.

"I told you I'd pin you to the berth if you didn't 'face me properly," Cliffjumper stated as he lounged on Mirage.

"You did," Mirage replied. "Can you blame me for wanting to stretch out our time together?"

"I think you just like to tease me," Cliffjumper replied.

"That too," Mirage admitted. Cliffjumper laughed. He crossed his arms over the centre of Mirage's chassis and rested his chin on his arms.

"We should play a game," Cliffjumper said

"We should," Mirage. "Are you ready to get up?"

"Maybe later," Cliffjumper replied.

They stayed in Mirage's room for the rest of the night,, grateful for the free time togeth. Before the first patrol of the day, when most 'Bots would still be recharging, they slipped off to the wash racks to clean up. Cliffjumper's faceplates remained heated while Mirage insisted on cleaning Cliffjumper. Mirage's touch was firm but gentle and he ran the clothe over Cliffjumper until he was spotless. Knowing what those servos were capable of doing to him, Cliffjumper was impressed with his self-restraint. He wanted to pounce on Mirage like some 'face crazed Lamborghini. No mech had ever effected Cliffjumper like this before. Then again, he'd never been with a mech quite as skilled as Mirage before. His faceplates burned and Mirage leaned over and kissed them.

"Why do you like kissing my faceplates," Cliffjumper asked and they burned hotter,

"You're blushing," Mirage said. "You look cute."

"Look?" Cliffjumper asked. "You can't see my faceplates heat."

"I can on you," Mirage replied. "The edges of your faceplates shine when they heat up."

"They do?" Cliffjumper asked, and tried to cover his faceplates.

"I didn't think you knew," Mirage said, smiled, and kissed the faceplate not hidden by Cliffjumper's servos.

"But you noticed," Cliffjumper grumbled.

"I did," Mirage replied. "Don't hide your faceplates, 'Jumper."

"Pest," Cliffjumper grumbled but did as Mirage asked. He then reached up and dragged Mirage's face down to his and he kissed him. "So I'm cute?"

"And gorgeous," Mirage added.

"Smooth talker," Cliffjumper teased. "What's your assignment today?"

"Espionage," Mirage replied. "I don't know when precisely I'll be back."

"Whenever you are, I'll be waiting with a couple of cubes," Cliffjumper promised.

"I'd like that," Mirage replied. "Did you want to fetch a couple now before everyone else invades the common room."

"Are you kidding? I'm starving," Cliffjumper exclaimed.

Mirage left the common room only a few minutes after he and Cliffjumper finished their cubes. As it had happened, they hadn't been alone in the common room for more than a minute before Prowl and Jazz had come in for their own morning's rations. Jazz and Mirage had left together to discuss the nature of Mirage's assignment. Prowl left almost immediately after Jazz. Those two found a way to refuel together no matter what odd hours Jazz set himself on. The nature of Prowl's role in the Autobots kept him close to the Ark at all times, Jazz tended to be off and about doing Primus knows what. Common soldiers didn't need to be privy to the missions of senior officers. Cliffjumper hoped that whatever Jazz had assigned Mirage to do didn't get Mirage hurt.

His own assignment, a patrol as usual, didn't start for a couple of hours yet, and Cliffjumper had nowhere else to be so he stayed at the table and mused on his relationship with Mirage. It certainly had morphed into something altogether different overnight. He'd felt Mirage's emotions and motivations while they'd 'faced and Cliffjumper knew that Mirage really cared for him, and had for a long time. Mirage hadn't 'faced him for the fun of it; he'd really wanted to. Cliffjumper hadn't planned on climbing on Mirage's berth when he'd gone to his room but he didn't regret a second of it. The only thing Cliffjumper regretted was not having done it sooner. Sweet Primus, Cliffjumper had never seen Mirage have as much confidence in anything as he had on the berth. Hound entered the common room; spotting Cliffjumper, he came over to his table. Cliffjumper couldn't help but blush.

"I almost hate to ask this but you and 'Raj...?" Hound asked, a bit embarrassed.

"Mhm," Cliffjumper replied. "He, uh. He's really confident."

"Sure he is," Hound said, not understanding exactly what Cliffjumper was saying. "He's a talented mech."

"I meant about 'facing," Cliffjumper said with a chuckle.

"Oh, yes, I suppose," Hound replied, his own faceplates heating. "The mech from the War Academy."

"What am I supposed to do?" Cliffjumper asked. He kept his voice low as more mechs began to make their ways into the room. "He just... He likes to give, and give..."

"Enjoy it?" Hound replied. "Some mechs are like that. Unless you're unhappy, I say enjoy it."

"Thanks for the tip," Cliffjumper replied. Hound looked a little mortified by the conversation. "Sorry, too much information, I bet."

"A little," Hound laughed weakly. "But in a way I'm glad. It's nice to know Mirage has someone."

"Did you know?" Cliffjumper asked. "That he liked me? I mean back on Cybertron."

"I didn't," Hound said. "It's one of the only secrets he's ever kept from me."

"Tricky pest," Cliffjumper replied. "But I guess we've crossed that bridge. We're not Jazz and Prowl or anything but we're something."

"I'm glad for you both," Hound said. "Please avoid crushing his spark."

"I promise," Cliffjumper said. He thought back to recharging against Mirage's spark. "I kind of like his spark."

Cliffjumper only had a short time left before his patrol so he bid Hound good bye and left the common room. He ran right into Bumblebee. Windcharger and Gears were with him. Gears glared at him with such anger that Cliffjumper just turned his back on him and focused on his reasonable friends.

"Which patrols are you on today?" Cliffjumper asked. "I've got the east desert."

"South for me," Windcharger replied. "'Bee gets to go into town."

"It's a perk of being friendly with humans," Bumblebee commented. "But it does mean I'll be gone all day. Probably won't get back until close to when the last patrol rolls out."

"Ouch, better subspace some cubes," Cliffjumper replied. Even if he wasn't looking at Gears, Cliffjumper knew that the other minibot was glaring daggers at him. Instinct, and the exasperation on Windcharger's faceplates. "'Charger, want to meet at the end of our patrols for a cube?"

"Sure," Windcharger replied. "Meet me in the common room."

"Yep," Cliffjumper agreed. "I'm heading out. See ya."

Windcharger and Bumblebee watched Cliffjumper walk passed them down the hall. They glanced at each other. Cliffjumper probably didn't know that one of the cables on his neck was compressed with visible denta imprints. The pair chuckled and turned back to Gears who was quite literally seething and shaking with rage.

"Oh grow up," Windcharger said. "He's not interested in you. Deal with it."

Gears glared hatefully at Windcharger, spun around and stalked away. Bumblebee rolled his optics and shook his head. He caught Windcharger's arm and led him through the common room door, and leaned in close to Windcharger and said:

"And this is why I don't let you near my neck."

As agreed, Cliffjumper met Windcharger at the common room once his patrol had ended. Gears was already in at a table with Powerglide and Huffer. Completely intentionally, Cliffjumper sat down at a completely different table. He pointedly ignored Gears. Whatever his problem was, Gears would have to get over it before Cliffjumper was going to deal with him.

"You and Cliffjumper still fighting?" Powerglide asked Gears when Cliffjumper walked by without looking at them.

"It's that slagging Towers mech," Gears hissed. "Cliffjumper's even letting him 'face him now."

"Seriously?" Huffer asked. "I hope this doesn't mean he's going to start bringing Mirage around."

"Didn't see that coming," Powerglide admitted.

"Bet he's lousy," Huffer said.

"I'm not asking to find out," Powerglide replied. "But you never know. Think of what all the pleasure bots he could have afforded might have taught him."

Gears shoved the table, hard, knocking their cubes to the ground. Powerglide and Huffer looked up and back at him with surprise and anger. He didn't look at them. They jumped up; Powerglide grabbed Gears by the arm and Gears tried to pull away.

"What the Pit?" Powerglide demanded. "You're not going anywhere. You spilled our cubes. You can help clean up."

"Have you glitched?" Huffer asked.

"Let go of my arm," Gears ordered Powerglide.

"Not until you calm down," Powerglide replied. "Do you want to get written up by Prowl?"

"Slag off," Gears ordered.

"No," Powerglide said. "Calm down."

Cliffjumper and Windcharger couldn't help but see and hear the commotion, although they hadn't heard the conversation that triggered it. Windcharger shook his head and looked away from the mess. He considered Cliffjumper for a long moment and took a sip from his cube. Gears had never made a secret of his hatred of Towers mechs, and he hadn't really made a secret of his desires for Cliffjumper, though Cliffjumper didn't seem to notice. Windcharger wondered if Gears's anger was more because Cliffjumper was involved with another mech or because the other mech was Mirage.

"He'll get over it," Windcharger said after a moment.

"Get over what?" Cliffjumper asked, looking away from the angry trio of minibots and back at Windcharger.

"Gears likes you, Cliffjumper," Windcharger explained, rolling his optics, exasperated by Cliffjumper. "He has for a while."

"What? No way," Cliffjumper replied. "He's never said anything."

"So?" Windcharger replied. "Did you just hop onto Mirage's berth for the sake of it or have you liked him for a while but just didn't say anything."

Cliffjumper sputtered, and his faceplates burned. He fidgeted in his chair and leaned low against the table; he asked: "how do you know about that."

"Compressed cable on your neck," Windcharger explained.

"Oh slag," Cliffjumper touched his neck and swore.

"So did you have fun?" Windcharger asked. Cliffjumper squeaked and looked at his friend with wide, startled optics. Wincharger laughed and said: "I'll take that as a yes."

"When did you get so cheeky?" Cliffjumper asked. He was still covering his neck with his servos.

"Always have been," Windcharger replied. "You've just never given me the opportunity."

"How does 'Bee put up with you?" Cliffjumper asked.

"Don't know," Windcharger replied, shrugging. "Just lucky I guess."

So his friends knew. More than a few mechs on the Ark probably knew that Cliffjumper had 'faced with someone thanks to that cable. Cliffjumper prayed that Smokescreen didn't catch wind of this. He'd open a new betting pool for certain. The longer he stuck around in the common areas, the better chances Smokescreen would hear about it. He and Mirage hadn't even talked about what they were; Cliffjumper didn't want anyone else talking about them until they'd at least talked about it. Before anyone else could see him, Cliffjumper filled two cubes and fled to Mirage's quarters before anyone else could see him.

Sadly for Cliffjumper, other than watching soap operas, the main entertainment on the Ark was gossip. It only took one short hour before nearly everyone on the Ark knew about his compressed cable. Nearly everyone included Smokescreen. Fully recovered from his round with Sunstreaker, Smokescreen immediately set up a betting pool. It was a quiet evening and the common room was full of 'Bots. Those that had just come to refuel found themselves drawn into the game, and placed bets. Smokescreen set up the table like a horse race. Each minibot was given 2-1 odds of being the 'Bot responsible for Cliffjumper's compressed cable. Every other 'Bot was given odds from 4-1 to 50-1.

Some 'Bot called from the crowd: "what about Mirage?"

"Mirage?" Smokescreen laughed. "Long shot of the table. 100-1."

The population of the common room roared with laughter. Most bets were placed on the minibots, even though the payout would be small, the bet seemed safest. A few more daring mechs placed their bets on other bots. Inexplicably, the 'Bot with the most bets that wasn't a minibot was Tracks. Hound and Trailbreaker sat back at their table and watched the energetic crowd.

"Poor Mirage," Trailbreaker said, lingering over his second cube. The crowd was oblivious to the two quiet mechs." Not a single bet."

"I don't suspect he'd mind," Hound replied.

"Oh I don't know," Trailbreaker thought out loud. "Perhaps we should place a couple of bets."

"We have inside information," Hound replied. "That would be cheating."

"True," Trailbreaker admitted.

"But it would be their own fault for not doing any research," Hound said. "Let's put a few credits down."

Smokescreen chuckled when they placed their bets. He eyed them quizzically, trying to verify if they knew something he didn't.

"Throwing your credits away?" He asked.

"Can't have Mirage feeling under appreciated," Trailbreaker replied. "Poor mech."

"Poor, right," Smokescreen chuckled. "I'm not going to turn your credits away."

The pair left the common room after placing their bets, heading for Hound's berth room for a game of chess and some TV that didn't involve soap stars. They met Mirage in the hall at the beginning of the domestic sector of the Ark; he was heading into the wash racks. What a sight, Mirage was covered from helm to ped in sludge

"What happened to you?" Hound asked.

"Rumble," Mirage said. "I would have cleaned up a bit before coming inside but it's crude oil and I don't want to be the cause of some natural disaster."

"How'd he know you were there?" Hound asked.

"Once I got the others inside the refinery, he did the math," Mirage explained. "The raid was already underway so it didn't really do them any good. Still, just to make sure he managed to sludge me, he knocked over as many oil drums as he could reach."

"Oh lovely," Hound replied.

"But everything else went well?" Trailbreaker asked.

"A complete success," Mirage replied. "Once they realized we had them outfoxed, they left without firing a shot. The refinery is secure and the humans are safe. And I desperately need to spend the next few hours scrubbing myself clean."

"No kidding," Trailbreaker said. Hound nodded.

"I'll see you both later," Mirage said and stepped into the wash racks. Once he was out of audio range, Hound turned to Trailbreaker.

"I'm going to let Cliffjumper know where he is," Hound said. "It'll only take a minute."

"By all means," Trailbreaker replied.

Cliffjumper was exactly where Hound expected him to be, waiting in Mirage's room. He rang the alarm and announced himself before he stepped in. The room certainly did look more welcoming with the pictures and now the chess table. Two cubes of energon sat on Mirage's desk and Cliffjumper was sitting on Mirage's berth, having been reading one of Mirage's datadisks.

"'Raj is back," Hound explained before Cliffjumper could ask what he needed.

"Is he okay?" Cliffjumper asked, standing up and dropping the pad.

"He's fine," Hound assured him. "He's covered in sludge, and was going into the wash racks when I saw him. He could probably use some help."

"Thanks for the heads up," Cliffjumper said, relaxing instantly now that Hound has assured him Mirage was safe. Cliffjumper went immediately to the wash racks. If he didn't hurry someone might offer to help Mirage and the idea of any mech touching Mirage, even casually made jealously flood Cliffjumper's processor. No, he would help Mirage remove every trace of gunk from his armour. And if any of the sludge had leaked onto his protoform, well Cliffjumper would really enjoy helping Mirage clean up that.

Only the officers had private wash racks so it wasn't uncommon for mechs in the mood to lock the public wash racks when they wanted to 'face under the showers of the wash racks. Cliffjumper had never actually done this before, but his engine revved with the beginnings of arousal. As he stepped into the wash racks, Cliffjumper heard the hiss of water and a sound reminiscent of bells as it hit mech armour. Mirage hadn't heard the door open, and his back remained turned away from the door. A devilish smile crossed Cliffjumper's face and he overrode the lock and quietly inched towards Mirage.

End Chapter 4

AN/ So the next chapter is the finale and I do not have it done. I only have 2 pages of it and need about 10 more. The next update will be whenever I have that chapter done. Hopefully within a week or two but I make no promises.


	5. Chapter 5

Ring Around the Rosie

Chapter 5

It's more than a little late but here we are, the final chapter

To understand the image of Mirage with which I work, look for the Classics Mirage figure. Lurve that figure.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Cliffjumper wants to make it up to Mirage for acting like an aft. He notices that Mirage is not fairing so well after his run in with the Insecticons.

Warning: M/M robot slashy goodness.

Pairings: Mirage/ Cliffjumper 

* * *

><p>Without his armour, Mirage looked downright delicate. More than a few of the 'Bots on the Ark would have been able to wrap a single servo around his waist. Cliffjumper couldn't, of course but the thought still made his circuits heat up. The handsome noble was exquisitely crafted. It was all the more apparent with his armour stripped away. His shoulders were still broad, the broadest part of him. They narrowed down into a sharp 'V', ending at his waist and flaring out again at his hips, though not much. Those hips were even narrower without their customary armour. Though his thigh struts were strong, his limbs were still elegant, long and thin. Every component in his frame was finally crafted of the purest metal in a shiny gunsmoke grey. Primus, Cliffjumper needed to 'face him. First though, he would have to clean him.<p>

There was no real point in trying to sneak up on a spy. More likely than not, Mirage already knew he, or at least someone had entered the wash racks and just hadn't bother to look. Still, Cliffjumper stepped as quietly as he could. No doubt he still sounded like a rhinoceros dancing on a piano. Mirage turned his helm and looked over his shoulder as Cliffjumper came closer. The minibot stopped a few steps away and offered a sympathetic smile. Mirage looked miserable, the poor mech.

"I hear you got sludged," Cliffjumper said before kneeling behind the spy. "It got under your armour."

"It got into my protoform," Mirage replied with tone of disgust. "I'm quite certain I'll be digging it out of my circuits for months."

"Nah, we'll get you cleaned up before the hot water runs out," Cliffjumper promised.

"The hot water never runs out," Mirage scoffed.

"Details," the minibot laughed. "Pass the solvent and I'll get your back."

"Thank you," the spy sighed, with gratitude. He lifted the bottle of solvent over his shoulder.

"Don't thank me yet," Cliffjumper teased. "I plan on getting an overload out of this."

"I believe I can manage that," Mirage countered. Cliffjumper grinned mischievously at his back. Mirage had no idea what he was in for.

Ducking under the spray and taking the solvent, Cliffjumper poured a generous amount of the orange liquid directly onto Mirage's bared back. The Towers mech shivered as the cold liquid oozed between the cables the made up the support structure of his protoform. Cliffjumper made a sympathetic noise, before picking up a cloth and running it over and around the cables that crossed between his lover's shoulder struts. Before long, Mirage had stopped all attempts at cleaning his chassis. He let his servos were flat on the floor in front of him. Every intake was slow, even, controlled.

Cliffjumper chose to take this as a challenge. Could it be that Mirage had a baser need to be in control? It was possible. Who knew, other than Mirage, what sort of lessons were drilled into the creations of Towers mechs? Whatever the reason was for Mirage kneeling there, valiantly control his ventilations, even as Cliffjumper felt his circuits heat under his touch, the minibot was determined that he would Mirage as a strutless pile of shiny components before they left the washracks.

Though he hadn't had the chance to learn the hot spots on the noble's frame that would make him melt, this was an excellent opportunity to find them. Cliffjumper would take his time, something new mechs would think he was capable of. The minibot slowly worked the cloth over the smooth plating of each shoulder strut and over each separate, interconnected strut that made up Mirage's spinal strut. The firm glide of the cloth over the struts of his back had Mirage arch, just so into the touch.

"Gorgeous," Cliffjumper hummed, reverently.

"You...aren't so... hard on the optics... either," Mirage managed to say. "Are you... cleaning... or molesting me?"

"Both," the minibot replied with great mirth. "If you don't like it, you could tell me to stop."

"I... never said..." the noblemech moaned as the cloth caressed the seam between his upper and lower chassis. The wires and cables were particularly sensitive. "Primus."

"Your chassis makes my mouth water," Cliffjumper said. He dragged the cloth all the way around Mirage's narrow waist, emphasizing to himself and to the noblemech just how narrow. "All smooth angles, sexy shoulders and a tiny waist."

"My waist is a turn on?" Mirage asked not quiet able to stifle a pleasured groan as Cliffjumper wound the cloth around the ball joints of his hips. The cloth just dragging near the network of cables that support those struts was electrifying.

"Connected to those hips and that aft? Frag yes," the minibot replied in a low voice. The water and solvent had washed the oil away but Cliffjumper didn't put down the cloth.

"Are you... trying to drive me insane?" Mirage asked. His secondary vents were at work now and Mirage panted to cool his circuits. Water became steam as it hit his protoform. It had been along time since he had allowed anyone this close, allowed anyone to take control over his frame. He hadn't always needed control, in his youth he had exalted in losing control. But Mirage had become achingly aware of the depth of his weakness. The Universe saw fit to remind him just how weak, helpless he was far too often.

As quickly as the Universe gave him joy, it saw fit to take it away. This joy had been Cliffjumper in one manner or another since the day they had met, not that Mirage had realized it at the time. Their early friendship had opened up the Towers mech's spark. The first glimmers of attraction had been unexpected and not entirely welcome. And then Cliffjumper had pulled away. Rollover had been the cause and Mirage had told himself over and over that he understood, that it was reasonable. Still, it had hurt. But then Cliffjumper had come back and Mirage, even with all the guilt and grief, there had been joy. But during those first frantic quartexes, months, Cliffjumper had pulled away again and by the time they had crashed on Earth and woken from stasis a million years later, they had been worse than strangers, they had been enemies.

That had been agony. Powerless to convince Cliffjumper that he was not just a loyal comrade but a friend with his words, Mirage had been brash and stupid. All those years, stellar cycles, decades, vorns of trying to prove himself to his sole creator had never made him so reckless as Cliffjumper had made him. Leaving the War Academy and going into business had come after careful study, research and thought. No care had been taken in Mirage's foolhardy encounter with the Insecticons.

Cliffjumper had more power over Mirage than the Towers mech could ever be truly comfortable with. Just his friendly presence was enough to make every vicious word, every cruel prank worth enduring.

Mirage would do anything to keep Cliffjumper close. Giving him pleasure, pouring his everything into pleasing him, frame and processor, it was a conscious strategy to keep Cliffjumper interested, to keep him around.

"I'm not trying anything," Cliffjumper replied. He wove the cloth over and under the layers of cables that made up Mirage's abdomen. "I'm going to make you let go. I was thinking about it on my patrol. You're so good at blowing my processor but you barely let me reciprocate. So I'm thinking you've got a little problem with control."

"'Jumper..." The spy gasped, his vents picking up. He felt his frame slipping from his control. It wouldn't be long before he melted.

"Relax, softspark," the minibot soothed as he shifted himself to sit at his new lover's side. He whispered in his audials. "Just enjoy it."

As if on command, Mirage sagged down onto his forearms. A pleased rumble from Cliffjumper's engine vibrated though the noble's chassis as the minibot pressed his armoured frame against Mirage's bared protoform. A long moan broke through the blue and white mech's parted lip plates as the vibrations drove straight through his spark. Strong, blunt digits ran down the rained struts of his spinal structure and another wave of heat and needy arousal soaked Mirage's circuitry. His own engine let out a low rev and then another. Each successive rev was louder, stronger. They rattled Mirage's protoform. A surprised cry broke from Mirage and electricity crackled and his frame curled in on itself. The water sizzled and electrified.

When the buzz of overload faded from Mirage's processor, he dragged himself up to lean his back against the wet wall of the wash racks. Steam condensed on the glass of his optics and he took a ragged gasp through his intakes. No one had ever brought him to overload without the involvement of as least one of his interface systems. A bruising kiss covered, Mirage's slackened lip plates, a glossa immediately demanding entrance to his mouth. The fallen noble tilted his face plates up, opening himself to the kiss, deepening it. He reached sluggish servos to clasp Cliffjumper's heavily armoured shoulders.

"That was... thank you, 'Jumper," Mirage said, his voice mildly distorted by static. Cliffjumper sat back on his peds, smiling smuggly. When they say, Mirage was not so much taller than Cliffjumper, his height was almost entirely in his legs. If Cliffjumper knelt high on his knees while Mirage sat back, the smaller mech could just barely look down at the taller mech, rather than up.

"You got more in you?" Cliffjumper asked. His optics surveyed the bared chassis and spread legs with open lust.

"Certainly," the noble replied and he reached for Cliffjumper.

"Good," the small red mech said. "Can't believe I'm getting the chance to do this."

A question caught in his lover's vocalizer as Cliffjumper leaned in and mouthed the long cable that ran from the corner of his jaw, down his neck and into the mass of cables, tubes, wires and circuits that meshed together over the struts of his chassis. Mirage lifted his chin, granting Cliffjumper greater access to smooth cylindrical component. It may have not been intentional when Mirage left Cliffjumper with a dented cable. Cliffjumper however, was acting with devious intent. He bit down on the thin cable and rolled it between his denta. When he felt it compress, Cliffjumper released it before sucking and licking the minor damage.

Long, thin digits delved between the layers of Cliffjumper armour, sending thrills of ever greater arousal through his frame. They spurned him on and Cliffjumper slid down the angular chassis, his own short digit stroking down and inward, following the steep angle that ended at Mirage's hips. The idea that Mirage had to spread his knees so that Cliffjumper could lay between them, well it was hot.

Free of modesty plating, Mirage's interface array was laid out like a banquet for Cliffjumper to enjoy. The noble mechs cable was still within its sheath but the tip was protruding as it had begun to pressurize. Lubricants leaked from the edges of the thin, flat triangles of metal that met in the centre, forming a protective barrier for Mirage's valve.

Cliffjumper licked the leaking lubricants away before watching the many separate metal pieces slide back into his lover's protoform. Valves varied 'Bot to 'Bot, ranging in size, shape and special features. A big 'Bot didn't mean a big valve. Interface arrays were the single most commonly modified components in the Cybertronians.

Towers mechs had access to the best components and the most unusual modifications. Mirage had certainly not been built with a standard valve. It clearly had move to expand out, to the slightly raised edge into which the cover had slid. But its resting size was unexpectedly small, as small or smaller than a minibot's.

Raw lust shot through Cliffjumper and he felt his cable start to pressurize behind his panel. The idea that he would actually need to stretch Mirage and to prepare him for a cable, had never occurred to him.

'Thank you Primus for this gift!' Cliffjumper thought to himself. He was grateful that no one could see his face plates because he was grinning like an idiot. The minibot didn't allow himself to spend more than a breath marvelling at his luck; he didn't want Mirage to get fidgety.

Lubricants had collected behind the cover and were now slowly dripping down the curve of Mirage's aft. They continued to leak, though not in any great excess. Cliffjumper was going to change that; he wanted Mirage to flood.

Spreading the lanky mech's thigh struts further apart, Cliffjumper began to lick and suck the malleable rim. Under his servos, the cables and structures of Mirage's thighs contracted. He felt Mirage struggle not to press up into the first touches to his valve. Clearly, Mirage still had a bit too much control over his frame.

Cliffjumper's mouth plates were soon covered in lubricants as Mirage was absolutely dripping. The minibot licked his lips as he move back to a crouch. Soon he was easing the first of his digits into Mirage's vice-like valve. Frag it was squeezing so hard around his digit.

"How are you so fragging tight?" Cliffjumper asked, his engine growling with lust.

"Towers mech are libidinous," Mirage explained through burst of static that garbled his voice. The penetration igniting sensor that had been untouched for far too long. "We seek maximum pleasure... in... in everything."

It was true too. His valve had been designed to take maximum pleasure from every penetration. Even the thinnest digit could be filling if the valve hadn't been loosened. The very lining of the valve was different than would be standard. Instead of simple sensor nodes scattering the surfaces, Mirage's valve lining was a sensor suite in its own right. For a brief second, Mirage was embarrassed by the hedonism of his interface arrays design. The embarrassment was quickly lost as Cliffjumper spoke.

"You aren't going to hear me complain," the minibot replied. The soft, hot walls caressed his digit as Cliffjumper curled it, testing how quickly the lining would stretch. Quickly, as it turned out. Soon, the red terror removed the digit only to ease two digits in seconds later. Mirage pressed back into his touch, vents panting as he did.

The noble's cable stood tall, fully pressurized and leaking transfluids. Cliffjumper had loved every stroke of that length in his valve and when he got a good look at it, he could see why. Small bumps spiralled around the surface from base to head. They varied in size but were all fairly small. When Cliffjumper closed his servo around the length, the bumps triggered the sensors in Cliffjumper's servo. Sparks of pleasure rippled over Cliffjumper's thin servo plating. Interesting. Also, awesome.

"Primus!" Mirage hissed and bucked as the horned, red mech between his legs sucked the tip of his cable like an energon sweet. The smaller mech sucked, kissed and savoured the hard cable. He ran his glossa over the small nodes and felt them prickle charge against it. Some how that made the leaking transfluids and the hot metal taste even better.

Who had taught Cliffjumper to suck cable? Mirage had intended to warn him about his cables special feature but it seemed that the minibot was enjoying himself and driving Mirage helm first into what would no doubt be a powerful overload.

Cliffjumper may not have been a pleasure bot but he had always had a thing for bigger mechs. He'd never liked them huge but Cliffjumper had always liked a frame bent over around him when he was fragging or getting fragged. This kink meant he was usually the one getting fragged because most "full-sized" mech didn't think a mini was mech enough for them. After a short time getting acquainted with Mirage's length, he leaned in and swallowed it whole.

He really should have looked at Towers mechs sooner. Maybe not. Mirage was still the only noblemech that Cliffjumper had ever met that had given him the time of day. Still, he should have taken a hard look at Mirage a whole lot sooner. Never mind he was the kindest, most tolerant mech, except for maybe Hound, that Cliffjumper had ever met. But he was the perfect blend of bigger and smaller, in all the best places.

Those sensor nodes spiralling around Mirage's length were teasing the sensors of his throat. Cliffjumper hadn't expected this to feel good but frag did they ever. It was normal for the minibot to get off on sucking cable but this was taking it to another level. Charge crackled over the nodes and along the walls of Cliffjumper's throat and the minibot hummed around the pulsing length, enjoying the way the electricity felt against his throat tubing.

"Sweet Primus!" Mirage shouted as he overloaded down Cliffjumper's throat. Holy. Frag. Mirage couldn't think of anything to say or do. Should he say thank you, because that was the best oral interface Mirage had ever experienced. All thought was blown from the Towers mech's processor when a third overload had him bucking his hips as Cliffjumper twisted three digits in his valve. His whole frame shuddered. He gasped. "Cliffjumper... You are incredible."

"I'd say the same for you," Cliffjumper replied as he sat back licking his lip plates. His engine revved at the smirk on Mirage's faceplates. "Think you're up for more?"

"Absolutely," the noble replied, breathlessly. He leaned back against the wall, one armed draped on a glistening thigh. Very slightly, Mirage parted his thighs that much more and looked to his lover with darkened optics. The pose was provocative, intentionally so. "I think you should frag me, don't you."

"Pit, yes," Cliffjumper exclaimed. With the most lecherous smile possible on his faceplates, Cliffjumper dragged Mirage away from the wall by the struts of his shoulders before tackling him to the floor and climbing over him.

He dragged the taller mech's long legs over his shoulders as he crouched between them. The look of Mirage laid out under him was almost enough to make Cliffjumper overload right then and there. To gain control over his frame and to make sure he didn't overload the second he got in cable inside Mirage. Cliffjumper took a few deep intakes and ran his servos along the elegant leg draped over his left shoulder. Through the mesh of taunt cables and wires, pink and purple glinted, the that came off the energon lines that fed the beautiful limb. The minibot kissed turned his helm and kissed the bend knee. Primus, he loved Mirage's legs, especially when they were wrapped around him.

Oh... since when had Cliffjumper had a leg fetish? Whatever. Everyone should kink Mirage's legs. Just so long as they never touched them.

With some semblance of self control returned, Cliffjumper leaned forward. He slid his servos under Mirage's knees and pushed them against tall mech's chassis. Every move was slow, deliberate and Mirage watched him with darkened optics. Cliffjumper steadied himself, holding Mirage's legs before sinking his aching cable into the slim mech's valve.

"Frag Primus with a pogo stick," Cliffjumper groaned. Mirage fit him like a glove, a hot, silky glove. His valve wrapped around Cliffjumper's cable, clung and flexed around it.

"Perfect," Mirage moaned with appreciation and arched his helm back. Both mechs were still, luxuriating in the sensations that clawed at their frames. Finally, Mirage pushed his hips, simultaneously he wrapped his legs around Cliffjumper and rippled his valve around the taught cable within it. He squeezed his valve tightly down around the base of Cliffjumper's length, then flexed it around the whole of the heavily charged cable. Fixing Cliffjumper with a demanding expression, he said: "You are going to 'face me, aren't?"

"Impatient?" Cliffjumper chuckled. He loved the way Mirage squeezed him, both with his valve and with his legs. Mirage made an inarticulate hiss and Cliffjumper laughed and groaned at the same time. "I should tease you, like you teased me."

"You don't really want to do that," the noblemech replied, though it would have been just desserts.

That was the lowest, possibly sexiest voice that Cliffjumper had ever heard. The minibot's cable twitched in its rippling sheath. Mirage had on an expression of uninhibited arousal and he reached and caressed Cliffjumper's audio horns.

"That," the red minibot grumbled as he withdrew and plunged back in. "Is playing dirty."

"Yes!" Mirage exclaimed. Rocking up to meet Cliffjumper's every plunge, Mirage ran his servos over the minibot's shoulders, neck. With both their charges and temperatures soaring, they pace of their lovemaking was quick, demanding, rough. The edges of of Cliffjumper's scraped against against Mirage's protoform. In turn, Mirage dug his digits into the gaps of Cliffjumper's armour and pinched his horns, goading him on.

Had any other 'Bot been present in the wash racks, they wouldn't have seen anything through the steam that enveloped the lovers. Every drop of water that hit their frames sizzled and evaporated. Charge crackled and electrified the air. Cliffjumper felt his overload scorch his every circuit and he shouted Mirage's name as he spilled is transfluid within his sublime lover. The charge of his overload set of that of Mirage and noble called his name as he came. The spent pair laid next to each other under the still running shower. Cliffjumper dragged himself upright after several minutes and turned off the water. It was a good thing the Ark recycled every drop of water or Cliffjumper would feel guilty. Only Sunstreaker took showers that long.

The hot-helmed minibot basked in the after glow of a very good 'face. He should have had very bad karma after all the slag he had pulled on Mirage but it seemed Primus liked him. That or the god liked Mirage and Cliffjumper was just benefiting from it. Either way worked for Cliffjumper.

He laughed warmly when he looked down at Mirage, who was still laying on his back. The Towers mech looked completely strutless. Mirage onlined one optic and the corner of the drowsy mech curved up.

"Did I wear you out, 'Raj?" Cliffjumper teased. "Payback's a glitch."

"You are a devil," Mirage replied with a husky laugh. "A red devil. The human imagery suits you perfectly."

"Slagging right," the minibot laughed and his armour rattled with the force of it. "Come on up, 'Raj. Bet you could use a cube."

"If I must," the noble sighed, indolently. He sat with Cliffjumper's help and began reattaching his armour. "You are right, however. I desperately need a cube."

* * *

><p>They weren't inseparable, not obviously at least. Cliffjumper still had his friends, most of whom were not fans of Mirage and Mirage had Hound and Trailbreaker. Neither mech was prepared to live their every moment under the invasive optics of their shipmates, their every touch or word dissected. The idea that a betting pool would be made the instant they made their relationship public made that idea unappetizing, at least for the time being. Let them enjoy the early days of their love affair without every busy body on the Ark offering an opinion or asking 'why?'<p>

Cliffjumper didn't worry about gossip going from the minibots into the audials of the greater population of the Ark. They were their own culture within the 'Bots and tended to keep their gossip about each other to themselves. Hound and Trailbreaker weren't about to say anything either.

So they weren't refuelling together now. Cliffjumper was with Beachcomber, and Windcharger. Mirage was waiting to fill a cube at the dispenser. Jazz and Trailbreaker were already seated with their cubes. Hound had only entered the room. It seemed the Ops were refuelling together.

"At least you were more discreet than whoever is fragging Cliffjumper," Hauler commented as he passed Hound, within audial range of the horned minibots.

"Excuse me?" Hound stuttered, looking across the room to Mirage.

"The cable," Hauler explained and he gestured to the top inside of his own neck structures. "Not so obvious."

"I can promise you, that was not me," Hound replied and promptly hurried off.

Bumblebee offered Cliffjumper a sideways glanced and bit his lower lip plate to keep from laughing. The red minibot that shared his frame design smirked and took a sip of his cube. That did it for Bumblebee and the small scout burst into hysterics. Beachcomber sat up straighter, and looked at his friends as if to ask what was so funny. Both mechs waved him off.

'So... A little vengeance?' Bumblebee asked over the comm.

'Maybe,' Cliffjumper replied. 'Don't breath a word to anyone. Right now, we're just figuring... us... out.'

'Not a word,' Bumblebee promised.

It wasn't as though the new lovers could not be seen together. Their new friendship wasn't unknown to their crew mates. The fact that this new relationship hadn't attracted more attention by the betting pools being discussed as a result of first Cliffjumper's and now Mirage's dented cables was actually funny.

What was funnier was that no one seemed to notice that Cliffjumper was listening. A small crowd filled the table where Smokescreen took his evening cube. Names were being suggested as to who may have given Mirage his love bite.

"Why not Hound?" One 'Bot asked. Hauler shook his helm.

"I'm telling you Hound denied it," the builder bot said. "Hound never lies."

"He could be about this," another mech suggested.

"Maybe Trailbreaker?" Yes another voice entered the conversation. "He's the only other mech that Mirage spends time with."

"Mirage could be a size-queen," some 'Bot agreed.

"He's too stuck up for Trailbreaker," another mech sneered. "Tracks."

"Hmm... Yah... I'd bet on Tracks," the first mech concluded.

"I need to consider the odds before I start taking bets," Smokescreen quieted the gaggle. "Keep in mind, folks that with his disruptor, Mirage could come in and out of any 'Bot's quarters unnoticed. The only one who would probably no for sure is Red Alert."

"He'll never tell," the mech whined.

"Probably for the best," Smokescreen said. "He has far too much blackmail material on all of us."

Cliffjumper's designation hadn't even come up in the discussion. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or a little insulted. Did not mech think he could handle Mirage? Speaking of Mirage, his lover was late. Patrols could be like that so Cliffjumper was not irritated, just a little impatient. They had a fun night ahead of them and the minibot was looking forward to the game, the 'face and the snuggles afterwards. That was another bonus with having a larger framed lover. There was nothing better than recharging with another frame all wrapped around his and Mirage's was the best yet.

Unseen digits ghosted over Cliffjumper's right audio horn and then the left. A hot puff of air from someone's secondary vents brushing over his horns sent a shiver of pleasure right down Cliffjumper's spinal struts. He turned to grab the invisible mech but missed. The minibot scowled. Invisible servo's pinned Cliffjumper's own to his lap and a hot mouth sucked his right horn. Cliffjumper's ventilations picked up and he barely silenced a rev from his engine. Another lick, and Cliffjumper was freed. He spun around.

"Mirage," he growled, now very hot and bothered. His voice was just loud enough to attract the attention of the table of mechs across the room.

"Coming, 'Jumper?" Mirage asked in so low of voice only Cliffjumper could hear him. His voice was like high grade and held such promises. The minibot could only barely hear the spy's footsteps as he walked to the door.

"You slagger," Cliffjumper growled. The rumble of his engine could easily be mistaken for one of anger instead of arousal. "Get back here!"

The table washed Cliffjumper chase after his invisible quarry. When the door shut behind the, seemingly, enraged minibot, the table burst into hysterics.

* * *

><p>"That didn't last long," Hauler chuckled.<p>

"Now, now," Smokescreen said. "That pool is not about to close. Just some friendly teasing, I'm sure."

"Nothing is friendly about Cliffjumper," Hauler corrected. "And is Mirage capable of teasing?"

"Of course he is," Smokescreen replied. "It usually just passes over the other mech's helm. Mirage's humour is quite highbrow."

"How would you know?" One of the crowd asked.

"Because I get it," Smokescreen replied, flicking his doorwings. "The mech is actually quite hilarious."

* * *

><p>Mirage only reappeared when Cliffjumper had him on his back on the spy's own berth. The minibot pressed their helms together and smothered Mirage's laughter with his mouth. Soon, Cliffjumper's servos all over Mirage's chassis, the kiss forgotten for greater promises of pleasure. His lover's servos matched his, dragging up Cliffjumper's charge, paying specific attention to the minibot's horns. A ragged cry a short time later announce Cliffjumper's cable driving into Mirage's valve. The Towers mech moved with his lover encouraging the brash minibot on with every ecstatic moan and skilled touch.<p>

They laid on the berth together a short time later, consuming their evening ration. The smaller mech used the larger as a pillow as he drank his cube. His systems were still purring after his quick overload. Before Cliffjumper left for his own berth, they would play a game of Cybertronian chess and make leisurely love before recharging half the night together.

"You could just say, Cliffjumper. 'Face. Now," the minibot teased. "Not that I mind your way."

"My way is more fun," Mirage replied, primly.

"Deviant," Cliffjumper laughed. "If I let you, you'd probably 'face me in the rec room if the mood struck."

"Maybe not the rec room," the Towers mech hummed as if considering the idea. "But the training room, definitely. Did you know I can extend my disruptor field over another frame for a short time?"

Cliffjumper chocked on his rations. No. No he did not know that.

End Ring Around the Rosie.

* * *

><p>AN: And over two years since the last update, we are done. It's largely unedited and certainly unbetaed but I wanted to put it to bed. This chapter doesn't fit great with the flow of the rest of the fic but my writing and word choice as far as Cybertronian body parts go has changed and I just didn't feel like going back and editing the old chapters at this point. I hope you can forgive me.<p>

There's nothing more to say; it's been a long time in coming and I thank everyone of you who has messaged me about this fic. You are the reason this fic has been completed.


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